Choices
by Ocean of Ashes
Summary: Begins in the episode Strange Bedfellows. What might have happened if, when Ray leaned towards her in the doorway, Neela hadn't turned away? Note the rating: applicable from the first chapter.
1. Leaving

Disclaimer: All ER material, characters, and storylines are the property of the creators and writers of ER, not myself.

Author's Note: This is intended to be a very different story from my last one 'Home'. After that, great fun though it was, I wanted to have a go at something a bit more challenging, so this might not be the easy, escapist read that the last one was, in fact, I'll warn you now, it probably won't be. However, after this is done, I think I will probably write a sequel to Home, as I think there's still a lot of fun left to be had there, and I will be in need of a nice bit of fluffy romance again (and I got a feeling from my final reviews of that story that maybe you wanted more).

But back to this story, it is set from the time of Neela moving out in the previous season. What might have happened if when Ray leaned towards her, she didn't turn away? What if Michael didn't die? What if…

Oh, and please note the rating. I have rated this M for a reason that will become quickly apparent in this chapter. Content such as below is not intended as being a key feature of this story, but it is likely to crop up from time to time given the darker, more adult nature of the story.

_Choices_

When he came home with the pizza, he never expected to actually find her stuff packed, ready to leave. He hadn't thought she would actually go. When she had spoken to him about it, he had only agreed because he hadn't believed her. He hadn't believed she would leave him, yet here she was putting things in boxes and talking about organising her mail to be redirected. His heart felt like a stone when, listening to her, she didn't even sound like she wanted to stay, but the look in her eyes belied her words, if only he could get her to admit it. The platitudes he tried to offer sounded trite even as he was saying them, and if someone had said that to him, he knew it wouldn't make him stay either.

It wasn't even disappointment, hurt or anything like that he was feeling as he stood floundering, trying to think of how to dissuade her. It was just like a deep, black, never ending cloud had descended on him, and he didn't think it would ever lift if she went. How had things come to this?

He knew though, exactly how. Fear. Fear of admitting his feelings, fear of needing someone so completely, and to the exclusion of all else. Fear of feeling so strongly about one person. Fear of being left with nothing. Which, now, he was. All his memories of happier times; of deep looks and accidental touches and hidden meanings suddenly became like sand slipping through his fingers and he didn't know how to stop it.

And so now they were standing in the doorway, so close he could smell on her hair the coconut shampoo she always used. She held out a t-shirt to him, and he recognised it to be one of his own, long since missing. Their hands touched ever so slightly as he reached out to take it from her, and the electricity coursed between them as it always did.

'I've been looking for this for like a month.' He didn't know what else to say, not wanting to tackle the whole question of why she had his shirt. Again, too damn scared.

'I… I rather liked sleeping in it.' She refused to look up at him, keeping her eyes fixed on the t-shirt they still held between them. There was a tiny quaver in her voice though, which gave away the amount of emotion she was feeling.

There was a long moment while they stood there, fixed and frozen in time. Ray tried to pluck up the courage to say something or do something, to make her stay, but he didn't know how. Even staring losing her in the face, he was still too scared to tell her how he felt and lay his cards on the table, his heart bare.

But as they were standing there, so close his mind wouldn't let him form one coherent thought, he found himself leaning towards her. If he couldn't find the words to beg her to stay, maybe an alternative to words would work.

He edged toward her so painfully slowly that he gave her plenty of chance to walk away. But she didn't, she was utterly rooted to the spot, mesmerised. Her heart was pounding in her chest, blood rushing to her head, and her legs felt like they couldn't hold her up for another second. She willed him both to stop and to carry on. She wanted to feel the pressure of his lips on hers, the touch of his skin on hers so badly, but her heart was full of guilt. She was married. She was married to a good man, who she loved very much, even though maybe she wasn't as _in_ love with him as she once thought she was, and the idea of betraying him to satisfy her own desires was anathema to her, but this was Ray, and she couldn't stop herself.

Finally, she lifted her eyes, and saw her own desire reflected in his tenfold. He wanted her, she knew, and if she didn't do or say something to stop him, he would have her. She should go. In fact, she _had _to go, right now, if she was ever going to get out of here. She tried to summon up an image of Michael in her head to galvanise her into action, but she couldn't; it simply wasn't there. This man standing in front of her now filled her heart and her mind, and there was no room for anything else.

The last fraction of an inch between them faded to nothing; their lips met, and instantly a fire was ignited that neither of them would ever be able to forget. They kissed hungrily, roughly, tongues vying for possession of each other's mouths. He bit her lower lip hard, wanting to hurt her like he was hurting, as well as pleasing her. She cried out, but they both knew it wasn't a cry of pain.

His hands were tangled in her sleek black hair, pulling her closer to him, not ever wanting to let her go. He took a step forwards, pushing her back so now it was her pressed up against the doorframe, rather than him. He pressed her into the wooden frame hard, using his body to trap her there.

But she was happy to be trapped. She snaked one arm around his neck, pulling him down to her, forcing him to kiss her more deeply. Completely lost in her passion for him, she used her other hand to pluck at the hem of his top, wanting to feel his skin. When her fingers reached their goal, and she raked her nails up his chest, they both moaned in satisfaction.

He broke away from the kiss for a moment, breathing hard. She tried to pull him back to her, but he resisted. 'For the love of God Neela, don't leave me. You can't.' His voice was full of emotion, and she felt like he was looking into her soul.

She kissed him again, which he took to be her reply. He felt one slender leg wrap itself around him, and he disentangled one of his hands from her hair to slide underneath her to support her. The feeling of running his hand up the underside of her thigh, even with the material of her trousers separating him from her skin, took his breath away, or what he had left of it, which wasn't a lot.

'You're right Ray, I can't.' She took her lips from his just long enough to get the words out. 'But I can't leave Michael either.'

Ignoring the dead, dull, sinking feeling in his chest, Ray just carried on. He wanted to stop, to do the right thing, but it was far too late for that. The taste of her, the feel of her, the smell of her, was too intoxicating for him, and he knew he couldn't stop, not now, not ever.

So he said the words that maybe she didn't want to hear, but right now, were the easiest to say. 'Did I ask you to?'

The rational part of him that still remained was screaming at him to be a man, to be brave and say what he really wanted. Which was _"Leave him. Choose me, please, choose me."_ He wanted to shout it at her, to force her to pick either him or Michael, but he couldn't make himself do it, because of that damn fear of what would happen if she didn't pick him. Surely, he reasoned, having part of her was better than none at all, although even as he thought it, he knew that his heart would never be happy in this state of limbo.

And then her other leg began to creep up his, and before he knew it, she was wrapped around his waist, kissing his neck, biting and sucking at him as she went. He could feel that she would leave a mark, but he didn't mind. It meant he was allowed to do the same, and he wanted to see his mark on that perfect brown skin of hers.

They staggered to his bedroom, and fell onto the bed. He landed heavily on top of her, pushing the breath from her lungs, crushing her, but she didn't mind that it hurt. It helped block out the emotional pain. Why couldn't he have made her choose between them? Because right now, arching her back and tipping her head back to allow him to trail a line of kisses down her throat, she couldn't imagine picking anything but this. He hadn't though, he had said the easiest thing for both of them, and while she resented him for not making her think about this, she was grateful as well.

His fingers moved to the buttons of her shirt, but he was shaking too much to be able to undo them, and he didn't have the patience to try, so he just ripped. Immediately his lips went to the new skin exposed to him, making Neela writhe and gasp beneath him.

'Please Ray,' she begged. 'Please, don't make me wait.'

He didn't. Quickly, he removed the rest of her clothes in much the same way as he had her shirt. He wasn't sure how much of it would be wearable again, but he didn't care. The clothes were already forgotten as he cupped her breast with his hand, gently teasing her nipple first with his thumb then his tongue.

He slid down her, kissing her stomach, then further down, stopping short of what she wanted, teasing her. He wanted to make her cry out his name over and over, enjoying too much that it was his name, not her husband's, that was coming from her lips.

Not being able to wait any longer, she helped his pull his top over his head, throwing it away to join the pile of her own clothes. Her hands went to the fastening of his trousers, and like his, were trembling. As she undid the button, and eased down the zip, she reached inside and he groaned.

'I mean it, Ray. I want you.' He was in no position to do anything other than exactly what he was told.

He kissed her again, stifling her moans, and not letting her speak anymore. If he heard her voice, he was worried it might remind him of what she had said, how she had refused to give up her husband, and he didn't want to remember. He just wanted a night of forgetfulness, something to keep out the ever present and all pervading feeling of loneliness that had been haunting him since her wedding day.

As he entered her, she cried out his name, pleading for more. 'Don't stop. Please Ray, harder…'

It wasn't like this with Michael, he had never roused her to this consuming passion which scared her as much as it pleased her.

They moved together faster, harder, her nails digging deeply into his back, hurting, even drawing blood he suspected. Months, God, years actually, he thought, of tension between them was at last being released. Finally, they came together, both not being able to help a cry escaping from their bruised lips.

The moment it was over, Ray rolled off her and immediately Neela felt cold and empty. Without the pressure of him on top of her, pushing out every single thought before it could even formulate itself in her mind, reality came crashing back down on her.

She was _married_ to another man, not the one lying next to her who had just a second ago been making her writhe and moan in ecstasy. Icy fingers of guilt crept around her heart. Michael was off fighting in a war, and here she was happily at home, screwing her roommate. A little voice in her head tried to tell her that it was so much more than that, that her feelings for Ray ran a lot deeper than she was pretending to herself, but she pushed it out of her mind. She was an adulteress, she had cheated on her husband, broken her marriage vows, and she hated herself for it, and Ray for letting her.

Ray felt disgusted with himself, and from they way Neela rolled away and turned her back on him, he thought she must be equally so. He felt such a coward for not making her talk to him. He knew, in a funny way, that she had always trusted him to do the right thing, but now he had wronged her badly. But… It had been too good to regret completely. Everything that had gone before paled in comparison to Neela. Just thinking about it made him want her all over again, but he stopped himself for reaching out for her.

He felt so ashamed. She was his friend, the best friend he had ever had, and he had just wantonly used her. Except, of course, it wasn't just about the sex for him. He couldn't bring himself to even think about the L word, but unlike the procession of girls who had gone before, he cared about Neela. He cared what she thought of him, what she felt about him, and cared far too much, at that. But he knew after what he had just done, he didn't stand a chance of persuading her that she meant more to him than just a casual fling. In fact, she meant the world to him, but fear froze the words before he'd even formed them in his mind.

Taking one last look at her back, paler than its normal colour in the moonlight, he too rolled over, facing away from her. Finally, feeling colder and more alone than he ever had before, he fell asleep, thinking that in all his dreams of Neela, it had never ended up like this.


	2. Staying

Disclaimer: As before.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews; as you can maybe tell, this is going to be a bit different from my last story, so I appreciate hearing your views. Also, I'm finding this story to be a little harder to write than the last, so please be patient if I'm a bit slower in updating.

Neela lay very still, listening to Ray's breathing as it gradually steadied and slowed, until he fell asleep. She couldn't stay there in his bed, next to him. The longer she spent there, the more she felt it compounding the feelings of guilt and betrayal.

The second she was sure he was in a deep enough sleep not to be woken, she slipped out of the cold bed, shivering. She left what was remaining of her clothes on the floor, not wanting to touch them, and went straight to the bathroom. She turned the dial on the shower as hot as it would go and stepped under the water, letting it wash over her, trying to forget. But twenty minutes later, all she had achieved was using up all the hot water; the heat hadn't taken the chill from her bones and she knew no amount of water would ever wash away the dirty feeling that plagued her.

And yet, standing in the steamy bathroom, she couldn't stop herself from wishing Ray was there with her. She wished he was there to kiss her until her knees went weak, then push her up against the wall, and run his hand tantalisingly slowly up her leg, stroking the inside of her thigh, until he reached… God, it was just as well the water was nearly stone cold by now. It was thoughts like these that had stopped her from walking away from him earlier. There had been so many times she had dreamed of him, so many times when she had been with Michael she had pictured Ray moving on top of her rather than her husband, having to bite her lip, once even hard enough to draw blood, to stop herself saying the wrong name. In light of that, she couldn't force herself to pass up the opportunity of having Ray tonight. She had _had _to know what it was like, and now she did, she couldn't walk away, however much she hated herself for it.

She stepped out of the shower, turning off the water, and began towelling herself dry. Glancing in the mirror, she saw the dark mark he had left on her collarbone, another one the side of her neck. Her back was sore also from being pressed against the doorframe, and even though she couldn't see the bruise, she knew it was there, but she didn't care. None of it mattered. Because come the morning, they would pretend nothing happened. She knew instinctively there would be no talking about this, no discussion of what should come next. They would ignore it completely, until the next time it happened. And the next. Neither of them had the willpower or the strength for it to be any other way.

Leaving the bathroom, she passed the door to his room, which she had left open. Pausing in the doorway, she looked in at him peacefully asleep. Was he not plagued by guilt like she was? Did he not hate himself? How was he even able to sleep? But then of course, what was she to Ray? A challenge most probably, something he could brag about to the guys in the band; he had finally managed to nail his uptight, straight laced, _married_ roommate. He certainly wouldn't be battling the heart wrenching angst that she was going through. Turning away in disgust from him, and at her own stupidity for falling for it, she retreated to her room.

There were boxes everywhere, and for a moment, she wondered why. She had forgotten that she was leaving, or meant to be anyway. She could go now. All she had to do was call a cab and walk right out of that door. He would wake in the morning to find her gone, nothing left but a pile of ripped clothes on his bedroom floor and half a box of Special K left in the kitchen cupboard. Her head told her to go. She was married, she was too old to be sharing an apartment like a student anyway, and Abby had offered her a refuge. There was no rational reason on earth to stay, and millions why she shouldn't.

But even as the thoughts ran through her head, she knew she was fooling herself. If she had really wanted to go, she wouldn't be sitting here on the edge of her bed, deliberating the point; she would have gone hours ago, before all this had occurred.

She put her head in her hands and groaned quietly. What a bloody mess. What a bloody, fucking mess.

Ray woke suddenly, shortly before dawn, when he rolled over expecting to put his arm around her, and found the other side of the bed to be empty. Hang on, he thought, who had he been reaching for? And then he remembered. It all came flooding back to him in a confusion of guilt and shame and pleasure, and shame at the pleasure.

Neela.

She had been right here in his bed, crying his name and wrapping her smooth legs around his waist. Kissing his lips, biting his neck, clawing his back. He knew for sure it wasn't a dream by the indent on the pillow where she had been lying, and when he stretched, pulling at the scratches she had left, the pain made him wince. He looked around the room, and caught sight of their clothes on the floor. His weren't in too bad a state, but hers… he felt another rush of shameful pleasure just looking at them. There wasn't a lot left of them. Shutting his eyes, he let himself relive the taste of her, the feel of her skin as he ripped off her clothes. He had fantasised about her so often, but he had never dreamed it could be so passionate, so satisfying, so… _good._

He wished she'd stayed. As much as last night had meant to him, waking up next to her, leaning over and gently kissing her neck, stroking her hair, making her breakfast, would mean so much more. If someone had told him he would actually be longing for the tender early morning routine of lovers rather than a night of animalistic sex, he would have laughed at them, but now he wanted very badly to do all those things for her.

But then of course, it wasn't his place to be doing all that. A husband was allowed to kiss her tenderly, bring her breakfast in bed, return her loving smiles, but he wasn't her husband. Her husband was on the other side of the world, fighting a war in the heat and sand; he was just some guy she shared an apartment, bills, the odd meal, and now, a bed, with. Yes, that was it; she obviously just wanted someone to keep her warm at night until her husband came home, and he was simply _there_. He had never thought Neela could be so cold, so calculating.

If only he didn't want her _so_ badly. He wanted her, and hated himself for wanting her, and hated her for making him want her. Kissing her had taken his breath away, even looking at her turned him on, touching her even more so. He'd never desired anyone as much as he had her last night. That moment in the doorway when she had finally looked up at him, that was when all the doubt faded. He could see that she wanted him too.

Of course, she didn't feel the same as he did; she was married to another man, but she wanted him, and he guessed that was better than nothing. Well, that was what he told himself anyway. He figured that maybe if he told himself enough, he might even begin to believe it. Although lying there alone, his heart as well as his body aching for her in spite of himself, and deep down, he knew that nothing less than all of her would ever be enough.


	3. Misunderstanding

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the good reception you have given this story, I know it's different than the last so I'm glad you like it. Oh, and sorry the last chapter was a bit short. I was trying to aim for longer chapters in this fic, but the story finds its own way.

Ray got out of bed at nine, thankful that Neela's shift started two hours earlier. He hadn't fallen asleep again after he had woken up alone, and he had heard her moving about earlier, getting ready for work, but he hadn't gone out to her. He didn't want to face her this morning, before he had had a chance to think. Think about what, he wasn't exactly sure, but he knew it definitely ought to be on the agenda. And once he'd done the thinking thing, they should probably talk. They lived together after all, they would have to confront this at some time.

He jumped in the shower, and jumped out just as quickly. Not a drop of hot water, damn her. Although a cold shower probably wouldn't do him any harm.

He got ready for work quickly, and hurried out of the door. Standing on the El, he hoped it would be a busy shift. He needed something to take his mind off it all, to just feel numb for a little while.

When he arrived, he got his wish. An ambulance pulled into the bay just as he reached the doors, and he ran over it.

'Hey, what've you got?'

'Male, mid twenties, acute vomiting and diarrhoea –'

As if to prove the paramedic's words, the man on the gurney threw up violently and without warning. Working in an ER had sharpened Ray's reactions to that sort of thing, but despite jumping aside, he copped plenty enough for his liking. Never a good way to start a shift.

Kovac and Abby came running out, and the paramedic quickly began relaying the patient's history to them aswell. They started to wheel him in, but Luka stopped Ray.

'We're okay here, go get yourself cleaned up a bit.'

He didn't argue. Much as he wanted to be kept busy, he was thinking more along the lines of something a little more dramatic than gastroenteritis and something where he ran a lesser risk of getting liberally sprayed with bodily fluids.

He went straight to the locker room. He hated wearing scrubs so always kept a spare set of clothes in the hospital for emergencies. Morris was in there, getting changed after his shift, and started trying to wind him up about getting spewed on, but Ray wasn't really listening.

He peeled off his t-shirt and reached into his locker for the spare when Morris gave a low whistle.

'What the hell did you get up to last night man?'

Ray frowned. 'What are you talking about?' he asked, hoping he didn't sound too shifty. 'And please stop staring at me like that. I don't care what floats your boat Morris, as long as it's not me.'

'I'm just saying, that's one hell of a set of scratches. Whoever the lucky girl was, she must have been a right tomcat; does she have a sister? I wouldn't mind a bit of what you got.'

Trying to ignore his colleague's crudeness, Ray looked down at his bare chest, and remembered the marks left by Neela's nails. His skin was red and angry, and now he thought about it, sore.

'Oh, that. It was nothing, just –' He was cut off by the very loud slamming of a locker door.

Oh, please no. Please God, let him be imagining this. How had he not seen her there?

She gave him a very cold look. 'Don't mind me Ray. Please, don't let me get in the way of telling the story of your latest conquest, even if she was just _nothing_.' She stormed out before he got a chance to say anything, not that he had the slightest idea what might have been a good thing to say, but still.

Thankfully, Morris didn't seem to cotton on to the reason behind Neela's anger. 'Wow, what's eating her? Someone got out of bed the wrong side. Did you and the tomcat keep her up all night or something?'

What possible reply could be suitable for a question like that? 'I don't know, I guess I must have.' He kept his voice carefully casual.

'Well, not that I'd like Neela on my case, but for whatever you got, I think it would be worth it.' Morris had finished changing, and made to go, much to Ray's relief. 'Have a good shift man.'

'Yeah, cheers,' Ray replied absent mindedly. All he could think about was Neela overhearing what he had said. _Nothing_. It couldn't be further from the truth, but she wouldn't see it that way.

He had to go after her. The prospect of working with her had been bad enough with last night hanging over them, but with this as well, it would be too awkward. Quickly pulling a clean t-shirt over his head, he dashed out after her.

It turned out she hadn't made it very far. She was leaning back against the wall, just outside the door. Her eyes were shut and there was a look of anguish on her face.

She jumped when he reached out to her. 'Neela…'

'Leave me alone Ray.'

She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist and wouldn't let her. 'I want to talk to you.' He had intended this to be so much better planned than it was now.

'I think you've said enough.' Her voice was still that cold, distant tone that she had used a minute ago in the locker room.

'Hell Neela, that was just to shut Morris up, you know that. What would you have rather I said? Would you have preferred it that I announced to the biggest gossip in the hospital that we slept together last night?' He leaned towards her, hissing the words at her, angry and wanting to make a point, but cautious enough to make sure no-one overheard.

He was right on both counts. The best way to put Morris off a scent was to give him a snippet of something to distract him, and she certainly didn't want the whole hospital knowing about her and Ray. Her and Ray? She might be getting a bit ahead of herself there. A quick shag was insufficient to permit her to refer to herself and him in the collective sense.

But being close to him again was already making her want him. She stopped trying to escape from his grasp, and pulled him with her down the corridor into the nearest supply cupboard.

She closed the door behind them and immediately pushed him up against it, kissing him hungrily. She teased him, gently running her tongue along his lower lip before plunging it into his mouth. And then he was kissing her back. She had taken him by surprise at first, she knew, but now he had caught up, and under his onslaught, she was the first one to moan in need.

'Oh God Ray, I want you. I need you… now.'

He could see her eyes clouded with desire, and the knowledge that that desire was all for him made his heart race. But in a supply cupboard?

'Neela, I don't think…' He didn't have enough breath to finish the sentence when her hands brushed lightly over the far too tight material at the crotch of his trousers.

'Ohh, I think so.' She smiled as she kissed him, revelling in her power over him.

He switched places quickly, so she was against the door. Luckily she was wearing a skirt, so it was easy to get to skin. He ran his hand up her leg, gently tracing circles on her thigh as he went higher. As his fingers continued to travel upwards, she broke away from the kiss and bit her lip to stop herself from crying out.

Not being allowed to kiss her lips, Ray moved his attention to her neck. She buried her fingers in his hair, pushing him towards her, the feel of his breath and his tongue on her skin nearly driving her crazy.

His fingers were now toying with the lace edge of her panties. He tried to look into her eyes to make sure she really wanted this, but they were tightly closed.

He had to ask, to make sure. 'Neela?'

She stopped biting her lip just long enough to reassure him. 'Please…'

He let one finger slide under the lace, touching her ever so lightly. 'Oh, Neela.' The feel of her was doing things to him he wouldn't have thought possible. Something that felt _this_ amazing surely couldn't be wrong.

He began to caress her slowly, but she couldn't stand it for long. Her hands went to his trousers. 'Now, Ray.'

In one quick movement, he slid his hands underneath her, lifting her up so she could wrap herself around him, holding her tightly, close to him. He thrust up into her, crying her name before he could stop himself. Now he understood why she was biting her lip. He moved faster, trying to temper his pace but not being able to. Only she could do this to him, he knew.

Neela was already close to climax. The feel of him moving deeply inside her, and the thrill of the forbidden had brought her closer to the edge sooner than she had thought possible. She exploded into waves of pleasure, soon taking him with her.

When it finished, she sagged against him, but he held her close, not letting her move away, savouring her scent. He kissed her very gently. 'Neela…' _Tell her. Tell her how you feel. Just for once in your life, dammit, take the risk. _

She looked at him hopefully.

'That was unbelievable.'

The shutters came down over her eyes instantly. So that really is all this is about to him, isn't it? Just for a moment there, Neela had thought that he was going to say something more meaningful to her, to prove her wrong. But no. She quickly disentangled her body from him, and straightened her clothes.

She turned the handle of the door, ready to make her escape. 'See you later Ray.' Her voice was back to that distant coolness that had cut him so deeply earlier. She slipped out.

He just stared at the door, where only a matter of minutes ago, they had been doing the sort of thing that up until last night, he had only ever dreamed of with her. And now it had happened again. And again, she was gone. What had he done wrong?

Both times, all he had done was what she asked. This morning, he hadn't even made the first move, it was all her. And afterwards, he had held her, and kissed her, and… He then realised what he had said, how it could have sounded. God, he'd cocked things up again. Neela was a decent girl, and he had just treated her like an object for his gratification. No wonder she was mad.

He punched the wall in frustration, wanting to kick himself. How could he have been so weak, so stupid, so scared? How could telling her how he actually felt be any worse than this?


	4. Blame

Disclaimer: As before.

Author's Note: Personally, I'm all for just knocking their heads together really really hard and hoping it will knock a little sense in (I think they need someone to do it for them), but that wouldn't make for much of a story now, would it? Things are _far _more complicated than that!

Neela retreated to the doctor's lounge, hoping it was empty. She employed that old childhood trick of digging her nails into her palms, trying to stop herself from crying, absolutely determined not to shed any tears over him. All she had wanted was for him to say something genuinely nice to her, something to show that he cared, but all she got was a roundabout sort of a thank you for a good shag, which had made her feel like a cheap whore.

Which was what she was of course. Only the cheapest of whores would cheat on their husband with a colleague in a hospital supply cupboard.

And what was Ray doing? She had hoped, and actually begun to believe, that after two years of appealing to his better nature in almost every aspect of his life, he might have developed a bit of moral fibre. But no, he was as willing as ever to get a quick thrill from wherever he could, even her.

Wow, she thought, what a great illustration of our so called friendship that is. Over the time that they had been living together, for all that he drove her up the wall, and she expected that she did the same to him, she had genuinely thought of him as a friend, as a good friend, someone who she could trust and rely on to be there for her. Why couldn't he honour that friendship enough to leave her alone? To either let her go honourably or to actually offer her something more than a series of brief, meaningless encounters.

But then, she reflected, what right did she have to ask anything of him? She couldn't expect him to offer her any sort of commitment when she wasn't in a position to be able to return it. She was the one who was married after all. All Ray was doing was making the most of what she was offering to him on a plate, and she supposed you couldn't blame a guy for that. This was Ray; he wasn't exactly the most noble or moral guy in the world, and had certainly never been known to turn a girl down for the sake of doing the right thing. And Ray was single, unattached, he could do what he liked without having to answer to anyone for his actions. He didn't have a loving, blameless spouse who he was betraying with every thought and every breath.

It was she who was really in the wrong. She was having an _affair_. If last night had been a one-off occurrence, she could have sold it to herself as a stupid mistake, a lapse in judgement, or getting caught up in the moment maybe, but she couldn't feed herself any of those excuses now that it had happened again. Once could be accidental, twice was inexcusable.

_An affair. _

God, it was such a dirty, degrading word. And all those clandestine, emotive notions it engendered were not nearly as romantic as novels or teenage girls perceived them to be – there was nothing remotely romantic about sex in a supply cupboard. Thrilling, passionate, and satisfying perhaps, but not romantic.

Michael on the other hand, he knew how to treat a girl well. He knew how to wine and dine a girl, to be charming and gentlemanly and responsible and… sensible, dull, predictable, a little voice whispered to her. No, she closed that door firmly shut in her mind. She refused to allow herself to compare Michael to Ray, ostensibly because Michael was her husband and she shouldn't be comparing him to anyone, but deep down, she was afraid that, if she was truly honest with herself and her feelings, Michael might come off worse, and she didn't want that.

Oh, how had all this happened? What was it about Ray that made her want to rip his clothes off every time she looked at him? And much as she pretended otherwise, it wasn't just about that. She felt drawn to him in a way that she simply hadn't been to anyone else before. He was her roommate, her colleague, her friend; she shouldn't feel this way about him, she thought to herself, not letting herself actually reflect on how exactly she did feel about him.

If only Michael hadn't left her to go back to Iraq… If he hadn't abandoned her practically the second they got married she would be living with her husband, she would be too busy being a wife to think along these lines; there would be none of this temptation.

She sighed. She couldn't make this into Michael's fault, however hard she tried. The blame lay solely at her door and there were no excuses or justifications that she could dream up to salve her conscience or ease her guilt. In all honesty, she didn't think she'd ever felt this worthless in her life.

Maybe she couldn't bring herself to cry over Ray, but she certainly could shed tears for herself. By getting sucked into all this, she felt like she was turning her back on everything that was important to her, all her values and principles that made her who she was. This guilt, this feeling of being in the wrong, was new to her, and she absolutely hated feeling like it. She would do anything to make it go away, anything except the one thing that would actually help. She wouldn't, couldn't give up Ray. For as long as he wanted her, she would be there. It scared her that even if Michael came home tomorrow, she still would be there.

The door opened, and she quickly wiped away her tears with her sleeve, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice.

It was Sam. 'Neela, we need you, there's a trauma on the way in.'

'Okay, I'm right with you.' There was one thing she could still do without being plagued by doubt, and that was work. She was thankful for the interruption to the endless cycle of thoughts that were running through her head.

Sam's shrewd eyes narrowed, looking at her closely. 'Are you all right? Have you been crying?'

'Yes, a little,' Neela admitted. 'Don't worry about it, I was just thinking about Michael, that's all.' The lie rolled off her tongue so easily, _too_ easily. With dread, she felt herself turning into just the type of person she had the least respect for.

Sam offered her a sympathetic look, which made her feel even more ashamed. 'I'm sorry. It must be hard for you.'

Please Sam, she thought, leave it alone. If you don't ask these questions, I don't have to think up lies to answer them.

'Yes, it is. I miss him, and its hard being only just married and knowing I'm not going to see him for months.' There, that wasn't a lie. It was the absolute truth, just a slightly economical version of it.

'How long until he's back?'

'Eleven weeks.'

Sam grinned at her, nudging her playfully as they made their way out to the ambulance bay. 'Aww, that's sweet, you know exactly how many weeks until you get to see him again.'

Eleven weeks until he's back, Neela thought. That means eleven weeks of Ray.

Realising that Sam was looking at her as if she was expecting her to say something, Neela scanned her memory to try to recall what the nurse had last said, but it had utterly gone, to be entirely replaced by a flashback of his hands grasping her, his ragged breath on her neck as he moved inside her, the sound of his voice as he cried her name.

Hell, she was in a lot more trouble than she thought.


	5. Trouble

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming my dears. If there's anything in particular you'd like to see in the story, let me know as I'm having a bit of trouble moving this forward. I know what's going to happen later on, but the next few chapters are going to be a trouble, so any ideas would be gratefully received. Oh, and as far as this chapter goes, I did an Abby and Neela friendship chat in the last story, so thought I'd go for something different here.

'Ray?' A voice behind him called out. 'Are you going over to the Jumbomart?'

He stopped and waited, allowing Abby to catch up with him.

'Yep, I'm on my break, and need to pick up a few bits.' He walked more slowly, allowing the pregnant Abby to keep step with him. He didn't mind her company, he just hoped she wouldn't notice the deep, melancholic mood that no matter how hard he tried, he hadn't been able to banish through working his ass off.

Abby walked beside him in silence, occasionally stealing a sideways glance at him. No-one could have failed to notice that he had been really down all day, but she didn't know whether or not she should bring it up. She had come after him to try to see if he was okay, but the way his jaw was set in a hard line and the forbidding expression on his face told her whatever was bugging him might be a subject best not broached.

Only when they got out of the building, and he crossed the road straight into the path of a truck did Abby decide to make him talk. She put a hand on his arm as the blaring of the truck's horn deafened them.

'Ray, what is it?'

'Oh, I was miles away, I wasn't paying enough attention, I didn't see that guy coming at all.' He tried to sound dismissive but he knew she had got his number. Nothing ever got past Abby.

'I mean, what's the matter? You've been working like a mad thing all shift and there's obviously something wrong. You just stepped out in front of a truck for God's sake.'

He looked down resolutely, and pulled a scrawled shopping list out of his pocket.

'Ray, I'm worried about you.' He could tell by her voice she was genuinely concerned about him, and he thought, in her pregnant state, he probably shouldn't be doing this to her.

'I appreciate your concern Abby, really I do, but there's nothing you can do so I'd rather just not talk about it.' He knew full well she wasn't the type to take no for an answer, but he thought it was worth a try.

'Talking helps you know.' She smiled at him, and finally she managed to make the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

'Thank you, I know you're only trying to be a friend. But honestly, leave it well alone. I wish I had.'

Hmm, she was getting there, she thought, as she trailed after him while he threw a few things in a basket. She could tell he wanted to talk about whatever was eating at him, but it was like he didn't know where to begin. Well, that last comment he had made was a start.

'What do you wish you'd left alone?'

'Where were you the day that your school taught you the meaning of the word "no"?' He tried to sound cheeky, but her persistence was wearing him down; he didn't have the energy to fight her.

They had reached the checkout, and Ray's mind flicked back to the day he and Abby had walked in here to find Neela standing behind the counter, wearing that stupid hat and glum expression. He smiled briefly at the memory.

Abby watched him as he looked over at the checkout and his eyes seemed to lose that haunted look that had been in them all day and became distant, as if he was seeing something that wasn't there. Then as a genuine smile played about his lips, she twigged. Everything just fell into place and it all made sense now.

She had offered the use of her apartment to Neela a few days ago when she had found her scanning the rental listings in the paper. She had accepted it gratefully, arranged to move in last night, but had never showed up. Abby had tried her cell three times but there had been no answer and when she had asked her about it this morning, Neela had said thanks, but she wasn't going to be moving anymore. And she had been entirely non-committal and evasive when Abby tried to get any sort of reason out of her.

'I'll buy you a coffee if you'll tell me what happened.'

Her words brought him back. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Yes you do.' She reached out and took his bags of groceries off the counter as he paid for them. 'Come on, they won't miss us for a little while. We'll go to Ike's.'

He groaned, but followed her. A problem shared and all that.

Once they were settled in a booth Abby leaned towards him. 'So, what happened between you two last night then?'

Ray shook his head. How the hell had she done that? He had told her _nothing_, and he knew Neela wouldn't have either. And yet her eager expression told him she knew what had occurred.

'What has she told you?' he asked, already knowing the answer. He was just trying to play for time.

'Nothing. This is Neela we're talking about, she doesn't exactly run around with her heart on her sleeve. All I know for sure is that she was moving into my apartment, and now she isn't, and when I asked her why, she wouldn't tell me. But seeing you today, I think I know.'

'Do you?'

'Yes. Well, you did one of two things. Either you told her you loved her, or you slept with her. Whichever it was,' she sat back at looked at him thoughtfully, 'and my money is on the latter knowing you, her reaction wasn't quite what you were hoping. Whatever it was was enough to stop her from moving out, but it wasn't enough to persuade her to finish with Michael and fall unprotesting into your open arms.' She raised an eyebrow questioningly at him. 'Go on, tell me how close to the mark I am.'

'I'm not even gonna ask how you did that. You're pretty close to the mark. Okay,' he shrugged, 'you're spot on. All of it. So if you can come up with a suggestion that is anywhere near as good as that guess was, I'd be very grateful.'

'I don't know what to say Ray. I know you care about her, but honestly, what does she mean to you? Because if it's anything less than the whole entire world, you know I am going to tell you to walk away. She's married, and I've known Michael a lot longer than you, or even she has, and he is a really really good man, and a really really good doctor. And as soon as he's home and settles down with her, he'll be a really really good husband. So this had better be the real deal. Tell me, what is Neela to you?'

'She's…' Where to begin? He hadn't even come to terms in his own mind with everything Neela was to him; he didn't know how to put those thoughts into words, even to Abby, who he trusted completely to keep it to herself.

'She's…' he tried again, then remembered the phrase Abby had just used. It was perfect. 'She's my whole entire world Abby. There, I've said it, are you happy now?'

'Ray honey, it doesn't matter if I'm happy or not. But I'd be willing to bet that Neela would be an awful lot happier if you managed to say those words to her.'

'I've tried Abby. I want to so badly, but I just freeze, and the words won't come out. And… it's like she doesn't want to hear it. This morning, she was gone before I woke up, and –' He couldn't bring himself to tell her what had happened in the supply cupboard earlier. 'She just shuts off from me.'

Abby couldn't begin to imagine the sort of guilt and angst Neela must be going through. It must be half killing her, as she knew how important doing the right thing and being a good person was to Neela. Cheating on Michael would be tearing her apart, but Ray clearly needed a helping hand in understanding that.

Then, just at the wrong moment, her pager went off. She looked down at it, then back up at him. 'Ray, if you're serious about this, about her, you've got to be patient. She's married and even if that doesn't mean a whole lot to you, it means _everything _to her. You've just got to wait for her to realise that you mean more; you can't push her.'

'You make it sound like I have a chance,' he said wistfully.

Abby gave him an enigmatic look, and left him alone with his coffee.

When she had gone, he stared blankly into his mug. Despite what Abby said, he wouldn't let himself go down the line of thinking that somehow there was a happy ending to be had here. Because there wasn't one. No matter how this all turned out, and he didn't dare believe that he would actually manage to win Neela's heart, someone would still get hurt, because that's what happened when there were two guys and only one girl. At some stage, she would have to choose, which would hurt her, and the guy she turned down would get hurt, and even the guy she chose would forever live in the fear that she thought she'd made the wrong choice.

Fear. There was that word again. Whoever would have thought that the great Ray Barnett would be so shit scared? Because that's what he was, absolutely terrified of the situation he had found himself in. So much was at stake.

What was he doing anyway? God knows he had done some stupid things (the unwelcome memory of the Zoe incident popped into his mind) in his time but he had never gotten involved with a married woman before. It was just about his only inviolable rule, as it only brought trouble, although until now he had always thought of "trouble" as getting a kicking from a jealous husband, never all this.

And he was most definitely in trouble at the moment. All shift, even in the middle of a complicated procedure, Hell, even when the guy he'd been working on had died, all that he could think about was her. And not just the feel of her moving in waves of ecstasy beneath him, or the thrill he felt when she moaned his name; it was more than that. Her smile, her laugh, the way she looked when she'd just got out of bed, and the way her eyes flashed angrily when she was mad at him.

Right then, it hit him. He was in love with her. He was in love with Neela Rasgotra. His roommate, his colleague, his friend. His _married _roommate, colleague, friend, the voice in his head reminded him.

He might be in love with her, but simply that realisation was of no use at all, because right now, he had never been this far away from her before, he thought, remembering the cold emptiness in her eyes as she looked at him before leaving the supply cupboard. He felt their friendship slipping away, and he didn't know what to do to bring it back.


	6. Arguments

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews guys; I know I say that all the time, but I really appreciate them, for the combined reasons of finding them a useful aid for writing, being interested in hearing your thoughts, and also because I am becoming an utter review junkie. Sorry this chapter has taken a little while in coming, I got overtaken by the joy of final year university workload. Anyway, back to the story.

When Ray got home, the apartment was cold and empty. He had seen Neela leave the hospital after her shift had ended, nearly two hours ago, and he had assumed she would be back by now, but obviously not. He checked around briefly, but she definitely wasn't in. He wondered if he should call her to see if she was okay, but he decided against it. If he ever went randomly somewhere after work, he wouldn't expect her to check up on him, so he wouldn't do the same to her. And anyway, the way she was with him the moment, he knew she almost certainly wouldn't appreciate his concern.

He took a beer from the fridge and settled down in front on the TV, switching it on hopefully. He scanned through the channels, but it didn't take very long to establish that there was nothing worth watching. He considered the World Poker, but soon changed his mind; he didn't think he could bear it. Thoughts of her were torturing him enough without adding to them with that.

He put the beer down; he hadn't really wanted it anyway, and switched the TV off. He was exhausted, and wanted to go to bed. He had come home planning to talk to Neela tonight, full of resolution since his conversation with Abby, and determined to make her face up to what was going on, but he wasn't sure he had the energy to wait up for her to come in. She could be anywhere, out drinking or around at a friend's and she might not be back for hours. Neither of them had a shift tomorrow, so he supposed it could wait. Sighing, he hauled himself up and went to bed.

When Neela got home a few hours later, she was drunk. Tequila had always been her downfall and tonight she had excelled herself. She didn't remember an awful lot; she had accepted an invitation from Sam to go for a sorrow drowning session after work, then gone with her to a bar… somewhere… but the drinks had kept coming thick and fast until everything blurred around the edges, and then kind of into the middle as well. When she (or Sam, or it could have been anyone really) decided it was time to go, she'd been just about sober enough to be capable of walking, or weaving at any rate, home, and just about drunk enough to think that a stroll in the cold, fresh air rather than a taxi ride would do her good. She staggered through the door, managing to stay on her feet by carefully feeling her way along the wall, using it for balance.

Her head was spinning too much to be able to make it as far as her bedroom, so she crashed out on the sofa, catching Ray's bottle of beer with a flailing arm, and knocking it over herself. Having not seen it there, she yelped in surprise at the sudden drenching.

Her cry woke Ray, who leapt out of bed and came running out of his room. 'Neela? Neela, are you okay?'

He turned the light on, and she blinked disorientatedly at its brightness before focussing her eyes on him. 'Raayy, yesh thank you. I am fine. Juss fine.'

'How much have you had to drink?' He asked the question, his tone dripping with revulsion and disapproval, before he could stop himself. He knew he couldn't sound more like her father if he tried, but he couldn't help himself. He was angry with her that her answer to all that was going on was to simply get blind drunk – was that all this was to her?

'Mind your'n bizness,' she slurred.

He knelt down in front of her. She stank of alcohol, not just the beer from the bottle that by the look of it, he thought she had managed to spill over herself, but there was the strong stench of spirits on her breath.

'Neela, look at me. Neela, why did you do this?'

The tequila induced haze in Neela's mind slowly cleared enough for her to realise that Ray was now very close to her, those hazel eyes boring into hers. She felt like he was stripping away all her layers of pretended indifference and coldness in search of what she was really hiding inside. Not wanting him to see, she snapped her eyes shut, shaking her head.

'Please don't Ray.'

'Please don't what?'

'Please don't look at me like that.' Her voice was small and scared, but he noticed the slurring wasn't as bad as it had been a moment ago. She was definitely more lucid.

He had told himself he wasn't going to touch her until they had had a conversation about what was happening between them, and judging by the state of her, that certainly wouldn't be on the cards for tonight, but his hand moved entirely of its own volition. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. She looked in need of comfort and he felt too strongly about her to deny it to her.

'Why can't I look at you like that?'

Her dark, chocolate eyes opened again, slowly, and gazed up at him imploringly, causing his heart to quicken a little. The alcohol had made her softer, more approachable than she had been since they slept together; for a while actually. This was more like the old Neela, his Neela.

'Because… Because it makes me forget why I married Michael.' Her words came out as barely more than a whisper, but Ray heard them. The wording wasn't quite what he had hoped for, but it was a start. In fact, after the long night and day of guilt and coldness, this tenderness was more than a start.

He leaned in to kiss her softly, cupping her chin in his hand and brushing her lips with his. When she didn't pull away, he kissed her again just as gently, trying to show her how he felt about her. He didn't object when she wound her arms around his neck, easing him towards her on the sofa, but when one of her hands strayed to the waistband of his boxers, he felt uncomfortable. This wasn't what he had in mind. He didn't want to break the spell by talking, so took her hand and returned it to where it had been previously, resting on his back. Within seconds though, the hand was back, and more insistent. He could feel her nails begin to creep along his lower stomach. At that, he pulled away.

'Neela, what are you doing?'

She grinned at him suggestively. 'Ray, if you don't know that, then I'm not sure what last night was. You seemed to know then.'

He scrambled off the sofa as if he had been burnt. 'I don't know what you think this is about for me, but I think you've just made it pretty clear what it is for you. And I don't want a part of it.'

She sat up, her hair tousled and with a confused expression etched onto her face.

'What are you saying Ray?' She was entirely sober now. There was nothing like a shock to the system to clear an alcohol haze, and Ray leaping away from her like he had been stung was certainly a shock.

'I'm saying,' he spat at her, this time the shutters closing down over his eyes, shutting her out, banishing her, 'that I don't want to be part of some sordid little affair you're conducting to pass the time until your husband comes home.'

'Sordid little affair? How dare you?' She was standing too now, and shouting.

'What's the matter Neela? Truth hurt, does it? Don't you like hearing a few home truths? I bet the heroic Michael wouldn't like hearing them either.' He didn't know why he was saying those things, he could tell he was hurting her badly, but he couldn't stop himself. The disappointment, after thinking that he had finally gotten through to her and made her realise what she meant to him, only to have her treat him like some toy again was too great, and he felt compelled to make her feel like he did; all torn up inside and like he would never ever mend.

'You're not even fit to say Michael's name. He's twice the man you'll ever be.'

'Twice the man maybe, but not twice the husband. He obviously can't keep his wife happy if she has to screw around with her roommie.' There was a brief pause while they both regretted his choice of word.

'Tell me Neela, why did you marry him?'

_Please Neela, tell me. Why him? Why not me?_

'Because I love him.'

_Because I knew you would never ask me. _

Their need to wound spent for a moment, they both stood, fixed to the spot, staring each other out, breathless from the passions they had stirred in each other. The seconds ticked on to minutes, and they were still there, unable to break the moment.

And then they fell upon each other. Kissing, biting, scratching, everything. He pushed her back onto the sofa, but she fought him until she was on top. She straddled his body, pinning him so she was in complete control. She leaned forward and kissed his lips, then moved gradually down his throat, gently nibbling as she went, down further to his chest.

Ray writhed beneath her, almost in pain from her teasing. Although he was unable to move, he knew he could throw her off if he really wanted to, but why would he? He groaned as he felt her lips on his stomach, her breath tickling his skin.

'Neela… please.' This time it was him begging for more. He didn't think he'd ever begged a girl for anything before.

She had reached the top of his boxers, and trailed a line of kisses right across him, from one hip to the other. Then her fingers began to slowly edge inside them, and this time removing her hand was the last thing on his mind.

As she touched him, he cried her name. Her hand started moving on him slowly, gradually increasing in speed, and he didn't know how long he could hold on.

He soon had to stop her; this was going to be too good to waste like that. He let her stay on top but now his arms were free, he made use of them by undressing her as much as he could in between her bending forward to meet his lips. He ran his hands over the smooth skin of her back, caressing her as he went.

She slipped off him for a second, kicking off her shoes and stepping out of her skirt. She wanted this to be different than earlier, this was going to be skin on skin, she wanted to feel every sensation that his hands sparked.

She resumed her position above him, enjoying being in control for once. She could feel how much he wanted her, and much as she wanted to make him wait, she didn't think she would be able to. She made to remove his boxers, and he raised his hips to allow her to slide them off.

He smiled up at her, and reached out to push the straps of her bra off her shoulders. The beauty of her just stunned him. He felt so privileged to be here with her that he half forgot all the rest of it. He pushed the argument that had got them here to the back of his mind as he inhaled the scent of her, tequila mixed with perfume that smelt of roses and the coconut that came from her shampoo. Right now, she was here in his arms and he didn't care about anything else. He knew he should do, but he just… didn't.

His hands snaked behind her back and he tried to undo the clasp of her bra, but he was trembling, and he fumbled to no effect for a minute before she took pity on him. She grinned saucily at him, and reached behind her, flicking it undone, and let it slide down her arms very slowly.

'Neela…'

She let him touch her, her eyelids fluttering with the sheer pleasure of it. She couldn't stand it any longer. She quickly cast aside her last scrap of clothing and began kissing him with renewed fervour, not pausing for breath. Who needed to breathe anyway, she thought? If she was to die right now, she would die happy.

'Now, Ray. Please, now.' Her mind quickly travelled back to earlier, when he had seemed so repulsed by her, and even though he seemed to be fine about it now, she needed to be certain.

Their eyes met for a moment. Ray knew this was his final chance to stop; she was giving him a get out clause, but despite the guilt at his cowardice, he couldn't take it. He wanted her too badly to be able to stop. He grabbed her hips and pulled her onto him.

She arched her back as she felt him inside her, overwhelmed. He began to rock his hips, and she moved with him, her eyes closed, focussing on the myriad of feelings he was setting off right at the very core of her being. She just felt so alive when she was with him, physically like this, but emotionally aswell; he had given her a zest for life that she had never had before.

She couldn't concentrate any further on her musings as he began to increase the pace, leading her to ride him faster, harder, driving him deeper into her. Last night had been a revelation, a new and undiscovered passion; this morning in the hospital had all the thrill and excitement of the clandestine and forbidden, but this was something else entirely. This was simply the best she ever had.

'Ray, please, more.' She couldn't construct a coherent set of words, but she had to cry his name.

Although her eyes were closed, he kept his open, loving the sight of her moving on top of him. Her perfect brown skin, her dark hair framing her face, spurred him on. Breathless, he knew this might be his chance, this could be the moment where he had got her – she had to listen to him now.

'Neela, I lo–'

And then she came with a loud moan of ecstasy and agony combined that drowned the speech he was attempting. As he felt her tighten around him, the sensation of her took away the words from his throat, the thoughts from his brain, and everything seemed to go both black and technicolour all at once.

When Ray woke a few hours later, shivering with the cold, he looked around him, remembering what had just happened. They had been so close, so damn close, to breaking the accursed cycle they seemed to have fallen into, but they had weakened. He had weakened, failed. And she was gone. Again.


	7. One step forward

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Sorry, but I'm going to give a quick plug to another piece of writing I recently posted – a one-shot from Ray's point of view set at an indefinite point fairly early in season 13, called Strange and Beautiful. I'd be intrigued to hear what you think of it, so if you've got a moment to check it out and leave a review; that would be great.

The days passed, and things between them slipped further. Neela had deliberately been avoiding him, scared of what he might say to her. It hadn't meant to turn out like this; she hadn't meant to leave him alone on the sofa. She had been happily nestling in his arms, resting her head on his chest and feeling content and safe, his heartbeat in her ear lulling her to sleep when the phone rang. Not wanting him to wake, she jumped up, grabbing a blanket off the back of the sofa, and ran over to answer it quickly, winding it around herself as she went.

'Hello?'

'I'm sorry Neela, I didn't wake you did I?' Michael's voice was full of concern for her.

'No, no, I was…' She didn't feel up to finishing that sentence. 'How are you anyway? I haven't heard from you for a while, what's happening out there at the moment?' She made her voice as normal as possible, thinking that maybe if she could make everything sound okay, it somehow would be okay.

She let Michael chat away about the work; some guys that he had treated, a little Iraqi boy who he had played football with in the street, a grumble about the food. His words washed over her, and she wrapped herself in their familiarity.

'Anyway, enough about me,' he finally ended. 'What's going on with you? You sound a bit down.'

'Oh, I'm just tired, it's been a tough few days. It's been busy at work, and I haven't been sleeping very well.' The lies were burning in her throat, but she trotted them out as if they were nothing.

'Poor thing.' He was all sympathy and care. 'Oh, and about what I was saying the other day, are you looking for somewhere else to live yet? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate Barnett for what he's doing for you,' Oh no, you don't, she thought. Not if you knew. 'But I know what he's like, and living with him can't be easy on you. I want you to start looking for a place for us. Even though I can't be with you right now, you're still my wife, and we can afford to set up a home together.'

Panic clutched at her heart at the idea of having to leave Ray. Coming home at night and him not being there? The very thought of it scared her rigid.

'Well, I can start looking if you want, but I'd rather do it while you were here; it's going to be your house too.' She stalled, hoping it would work. She knew she was just putting off the inevitable and she had to face up to things sometime, but not now, not yet. Not after that wonderful, amazing experience with Ray. His tenderness and the look in his eyes had told her something that she didn't dare to believe may be true.

To her relief, Michael bought it. 'Whatever you say Neela, whatever makes you happy.' Happy? She wasn't sure what that even was at the moment. 'As long as you don't mind being stuck with him and whatever bit of stuff is hanging around him these days.'

She didn't reply, swallowing hard against the feeling of nausea at his words that sprang up in her throat.

She was saved from answering by the sound of some commotion coming crackling down the phone line. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear shouting, and she could just about pick out Michael's name.

'I'm sorry Neela, I've got to go. Something's just kicked off and I have to go see…'

'That's okay, I can hear it's hectic there. Call me soon.'

'Bye Neela, take care. I love you.'

'You too.' Although it wasn't exactly a lie, she couldn't actually make herself say that she loved him too. She did, but she wasn't sure if it was enough anymore. If she had never met Ray, Michael would be more than enough to keep her happy forever, but she had met Ray, and now nothing was ever how she thought it was.

Putting the phone down, she turned from where she was sitting, to look at Ray. He looked young and vulnerable lying there, a soft smile on his face. She wanted to go back to him, to curl up in his arms, and pretend that nothing in the world existed except this apartment, and this moment, and them. But how could she after she had just been talking to her husband? She didn't deserve to be happy with either of them.

She went over to Ray, and gently covered him with the blanket that she had been clutching to herself, bending down to kiss him on the cheek. Then she withdrew to her own room, lying on the bed, cold and alone; the escape of sleep far away.

In the days that followed though, she knew that he hadn't forgiven her for leaving him that night. She hadn't forgiven herself either, but she had had no choice. It created even more tension between them, and she couldn't bear it, so she had just stayed away. She swapped a few shifts with Abby so she worked at different times, and when he was in the apartment, she stayed in her room.

Abby noticed her depression, and pinned her down about it one afternoon, having dragged Neela shopping for baby things with her.

They were ambling slowly down the street when Abby brought it up.

'Neela, are you okay?'

'Oh, what? Yes, sorry I wasn't paying attention, I…' Her poor attempt at covering up her absence of mind reminded Abby strongly of someone else she knew.

'Honey, I know.'

Something about Abby's voice told Neela that she knew exactly what was on her mind. Part of her was annoyed at Ray for having spoken about it to someone else, but she couldn't begrudge him a confidante, and she had to admit, she was a little relieved to have someone to talk to herself. Besides, she trusted Abby absolutely.

'He told you? When?'

'He didn't have to tell me about it. He was… well, behaving pretty much like you are now actually, and I made a bit of clever guesswork. It was just after it happened, the night after you were meant to be moving into my place.'

'Oh, Abby. I don't know what to do, it's all just… awful.'

Abby reached out and squeezed her arm in reassurance. 'Come on, let's find somewhere to sit and talk about this properly.'

They wandered to the park, and settled on one of the benches. 'So, where do you want to start?'

'Well, at the beginning I suppose. That night I was going to leave, he came home, and he saw that I was going and he looked so devastated, Abby. I never thought anything I could do could make him feel so strongly, but the look on his face…' Neela tried to push that look out of her mind; his hurt hurt her even more.

'I'm not quite sure how it all happened. We were in the doorway and I had my bags, the cab was waiting outside, but somehow I never got there. We ended up in his bed instead…'

Neela looked appealingly at Abby, wanting her opinion. She hadn't realised how much she needed to talk about this.

'And?' Abby had a twinkle in her eye.

'And what?'

'And you know what. What was it like?'

'What do you mean? What was it like giving in to lust and cheating on my husband and becoming an adulteress and starting an affair and losing my best friend and…' She put her head in her hands and groaned. 'God, I don't know how all this happened, but now it has and it's all spiralling out of control.'

Abby pulled her into a hug as Neela began to cry. 'Hey, hey, it's okay. Sorry for teasing you. But it's not that bad, not enough for tears anyway. ' She offered her a tissue which she took gratefully.

'Yes, it is. It's a nightmare that I keep hoping I'm going to wake up from but I don't.'

'Come on then, let's go through this a step at a time.' Abby tried to rationalise it all a bit for her. 'We'll deal with the Michael thing first. I know how guilty you must be feeling; I know you, and I can imagine what this is doing to you. What you've got to ask yourself is, is this all because Michael isn't here and you're lonely, or does it go deeper than that?'

Neela sighed. She had known that Abby would make her face all the difficult questions that she had been avoiding asking herself.

'To begin with, I tried to tell myself it was the loneliness; I even tried in my mind to blame it on Michael for leaving. But I don't think like that now. It _does_ go deeper than that. I'm scared by just how deep it might be.'

'So, you don't love Michael anymore then?'

'I do love him. I miss him and I wish he was here, but at the same time, I'm glad he's not, because then I couldn't be... He called a few nights ago, and it was good to hear from him. But I don't think I'm in love with him. Talking to him was like talking to a friend, or a brother…Not a husband. But it doesn't stop the guilt. I hate myself so much for what I'm doing to him. He's one of the nicest, best men I've ever known, and I feel honoured that I am his wife, and disgusted with what I'm doing to him, but…'

'But?'

'But Ray…'

This would be telling, Abby thought. She knew how Ray felt about Neela, and she was fairly sure the feelings were reciprocated, but she wasn't certain.

'All right, that leads us onto the other part of this then. How do you feel about Ray? Deep down, Neela, you've got to be honest with yourself.' Abby looked at her seriously.

'I love him Abby. I love him in the way I should love Michael. All I can think about is him, all of the time. My life was so boring and dull and pedestrian until I met him, and having him in my life has just… Michael said he wanted me to start looking for somewhere for us to move into when he comes home, and the thought of not living with Ray anymore…' She shook her head. 'I couldn't do it, I actually put Michael off, I couldn't bring myself to leave.'

Abby sat back on the bench. This was exactly what she had thought was going on. But things were complicated, they were both two of the most stubborn people she had ever met, and getting them to admit their feelings to each other, rather than just her, would be hard. And there was still Michael, an insurmountable obstacle.

'Neela, I think you need to face up to what's going on. The way I see it is you're in a marriage that you aren't happy in and you're in love with someone else. You can't keep burying your head in the sand.'

She knew she was being forceful, and a little harsh, but she decided Neela needed a bit of a shake. Michael was a good guy, and Abby didn't like good people getting hurt. The sooner everything was out in the open, the better.

'But what's the point?' Neela jumped up and began to pace around. 'Michael is a good, kind man who I like and respect, and he loves me. I can have a good life with him. What would happen to me if I left him and went off with Ray? I'd have a few weeks of fantastic sex before he got bored and dropped me like a stone for the next pretty young thing to come along. I would have given up everything, and for what? A broken heart and a roommate I couldn't look in the face.'

Abby looked at her doubtfully. Did Neela not realise Ray's feelings for her? Because if she didn't, she could understand why this decision seemed so difficult for her.

'Honey, I think you really need to talk to Ray.'

'Why do you say it like that?'

'It's not my place to say.' Abby tried to backpedal, wishing she hadn't got involved. 'Really, Neela. You and Ray actually have to do some talking for a change.'

'I think we've proved talking isn't our strong point, so if you know something that I don't, you had better tell me.' Neela looked at her warningly.

'All I'm prepared to say is that are you sure you've got Ray right on this one? I think you might be underestimating his feelings, that's all.'

'I…'

Abby was voicing a thought that had occurred to Neela a few times over the last few days. His reaction to her when he accused her of just being after sex and the hurt looks he had been shooting at her on the rare occasions their paths had crossed lately had sparked the thought that maybe there was more to this than she thought, but she couldn't bear the disappointment if she was wrong.

'I don't even dare to hope that he feels the same about me as I do about him.' She sounded scared, Abby thought.

'Why would you think he doesn't?'

'Well, because…' she squirmed awkwardly. 'Why would Ray want to be with someone like me? I'm not pretty or easy or popular or funny or anything like all the girls he normally goes for. All we ever do is fight, even back when things were normal; we're so different. It would be a disaster. And staying with Michael would be… safe. I might not be happy but I won't get hurt.'

Abby didn't know what to say. She put her arms around her, and hugged her tightly. 'Like I say Honey, I think you _really_ need to talk to Ray.'


	8. And two steps back

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, please keep them coming. And sorry if it takes me a little while to update after this chapter – from now on I'll be alternately updating this story, and my other current one, Against the Odds. Unless of course, reviews for one completely overwhelm the other, in which case I shall give in to pressure!

Several times over the next few days, Neela tried to talk to Ray, but the pattern they had fallen into, of studiously avoiding each other, made it difficult. It took her an enormous amount of courage to simply be in the same room as him at the moment, and talking was a step further than that.

One morning, while they were both getting ready for work, on her customary dash from the bathroom to her bedroom, she saw him sitting at the table, glumly prodding a bowl of cereal with his spoon. This could be the moment she was looking for. There was only half an hour before they had to leave to go to work, which should give her enough time to start a tentative chat with him, but hopefully they wouldn't have to get into anything too deeply. She wanted to make a first step, that was all. The rest would have to be a much longer process than a single conversation.

She popped into her room to replace her towel with a less revealing bathrobe, and went back out to him. She pulled out a chair and sat opposite him.

He glanced up at her in surprise, but immediately returned his gaze to the cereal. After a little while, as if he realised she hadn't sat down there by accident, he raised his eyes again and allowed them to settle on her. It was the first time she had voluntarily spent any time in his company for over a week, so he was wary of her. Plus just looking at her hurt so damn much. He wanted to possess that beauty, not just to be able to touch it and revel in it, but to really possess it. To be able to kiss her good morning, and hug her goodnight. To stroke her cheek and make her laugh. To not have another man's ring on her finger. It killed him that he couldn't, but he couldn't bear to dwell on it too much. He spoke before the lump in his throat became too big.

'Morning Neela.' He pushed the cereal box towards her but she shook her head. She couldn't make herself eat the sugary rubbish he insisted was cereal even as a gesture of friendship.

'Good morning Ray.'

He raised an eyebrow at her. 'Good?'

He was right, she thought. There was nothing good about any morning anymore, not when they all started in this welter of awkwardness and unspoken feelings. 'Okay, scratch the "good". Just a plain morning better?' She tried to make her voice light despite her heavy heart.

'No Neela. The way you greet me isn't going to be the make or break point of my day.' Hmm, small lie there Barnett, he admitted to himself. But then, I haven't had a lot of experience lately with seeing her in the mornings; in fact, at the moment, I'm not used to seeing a lot of her at all.

The way she had been avoiding him lately was really, really hurting, especially as he had thought they had come so close to admitting their feelings the other night. To have everything he wanted within his grasp only to be taken away again was nothing short of torture.

He didn't appreciate being used by anyone, not even Neela. Deep down though, he knew he would carry on letting her. Their last encounter had proved that he had no willpower as far as she was concerned; he just wished it wasn't like this.

'Ray, we need to talk.'

He looked up at her, not replying. He was expending too much energy trying to quell the flame of hope that leapt in his chest.

Seeing that he was listening, but was letting her start, she carried on. 'I hate the way things are between us Ray. The not talking, the avoiding each other, the… I never meant for things to be this way.' She looked up at him shyly, hoping he would help her with this.

'Really? Did you not?' His voice was incredulous. How could she dismiss everything that had happened between them as some sort of undesirable accident? Well, he was bloody sorry it was awkward, but what did she expect?

'What do you mean Ray?' She sounded confused and hurt. 'Of course I didn't, this is all just awful, I miss you, I…' She stopped short of telling him she loved him. The expression on his face made the words die in her throat. He was looking at her like he hated her. Like hearing her explanations were taking valuable time out of his day.

'What are you trying to say?' He made his voice deliberately cold, not wanting to let her hear how much of a knife edge she had him balanced on.

'Oh Ray, I just want us to be friends, like we were. You mean so much to me.' She wished she could find the courage to tell him just how much.

He stared at her for a while. Friends? _Friends? _Jesus. Did she really, honestly think that everything could just go back to the way they were? What fantasy world was she living in? He had no idea he was completely misinterpreting her meaning, and ploughed onwards, not giving her the chance to explain.

'Give me a break Neela.' He pushed aside the cereal angrily, making the bowl tip. The milk spilled all over the table, and in the shocked silence, they could hear it slowly begin to drip onto the floor.

Then he exploded. 'I mean, what are you thinking? That you can just wave a magic wand and we all jump back into our convenient little compartments at your command? Which box shall I jump back into – roommate? Fuck buddy? Or what? Cos it sure as Hell isn't going to be friend. I know you think I'm some heartless bastard, but I do have some feelings you know.'

Neela was torn between crying and defending herself. She just couldn't believe his reaction. She had known he was hurting, and that it was completely her fault, but the venom in his voice cut her to the quick.

In the end, she chose both. Tears glistened in her eyes as she began to shout back at him. 'Fine one you are to talk! You think you're my bloody fuck buddy? You, who have had more women than most of the rest of us have had hot dinners? How dare you?'

'Don't make yourself out to be the innocent one here Neela. You're the one who's married. _You're _the one who's committing adultery.' He spat the words at her, making sure to use those that he knew would hurt the most.

'At least when I sleep with someone, I make sure it means something.' In his anger, Ray missed the implications of what she said. 'What am I to you anyway Ray? Just another notch on your distinctly over-notched bedpost? A bit of a challenge to brag about to your mates?'

'What, in oppose to nice way to pass the time until Hubby comes home? Is that what all you abandoned wives do in those little meetings of yours – swap stories about the latest mug you've got warming your bed?'

'You're right about one thing at any rate Ray, you _are_ a heartless bastard. I cannot _believe_ you said that.'

'Why not Neela? It's true, isn't it? God, I feel sorry for your husband.'

Neela was lost for words. He had insulted her in every way he could think of, choosing in her adultery the one thing he knew was eating her up inside anyway. She had actually been beginning to let herself believe that he really might feel something for her, that he might be worth taking the risk for, yet all the time, he had been thinking this about her. She felt worthless and stupid, but she was damned if she was going to let him see that.

'Fuck you Ray. I don't have to put up with this.' She stood up, pushing her chair out behind her angrily, and it toppled over, clattering to the floor. 'I was trying to build a few bridges Ray, offer the olive branch. But if that's what you think about me, then you can just fuck off. I don't care.' That final lie, that she didn't care about him, hurt her ten times more than all the other lies she had told. She could barely speak through the tears.

She retreated to her bedroom, and slammed the door very hard, making the whole apartment shake.

Ray just sat there in the echoing silence of the aftermath, surveying the carnage that their argument had left. He was furious with himself for letting his temper get the better of him. She had been the brave one, she had taken the first steps in actually confronting what was going on between them, and his reaction had been… horrible. He felt his insides curl up in shame at some of the things he had said to her. Part of him wanted to go straight to her, to take her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was, and that he loved her, but her door was closed in a very final way. He had to apologise at some point, but he sensed now was not the time. He didn't feel like he even deserved to be in her company right now.

He quietly righted the chair and mopped up the spilt milk, wincing as he couldn't help but relive the moments that had caused them. He was dressed and ready to go to work, so he slipped out of the apartment. It was still a while before he had to be at the hospital, but he had to get out in the fresh air, clear his head a bit. And decide what the Hell he could do to make things up to her.

Neela sat on her bed, her body racked with uncontrollable sobs. Now she was away from him, and in the sanctuary of her room, she could let her strong façade crumble away, and once she started crying, she couldn't stop. The tears came in wave after wave, and she buried her face in a pillow so he couldn't hear her. It was one thing for him to have driven her to lose control over herself in so many ways, so completely; it was another entirely to let him know what he had done. And besides, if he heard her crying, she was scared that he might come in to her. And she was even more scared that he wouldn't.

She hugged herself, rocking back and forth. She had tried… God, she had tried to do the right thing. She had been doing the wrong thing, hurting people, hurting Ray, but she wanted so badly to begin to put it right, and he had… The thought of the things he said brought a fresh bout of sobs.

She felt like a silly little girl. Of course he wouldn't feel anything more for her than any of the other girls he slept with. She cursed her own stupidity in thinking otherwise. And Abby as well actually, come to think of it, for encouraging her. She was plain old Neela Rasgotra; someone as amazing as Ray would never look twice at someone like her. It was time she came to terms with that, and started being grateful for what she did have; a kind, caring and loving husband.

Despite her new resolution, it was a very long time before she could pull herself together enough to leave to go to work.


	9. Rain

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: I definitely agree that they both need a good slap to knock some sense into them. This chapter coming up now is the original idea I had that set off this whole story, although it's changed a fair bit since then, but hopefully you'll like it. It was originally going to have more to it than this, but it was getting quite long, so you'll have to wait til the next installment I'm afraid.

She was standing on the roof. Her shift was over but Neela couldn't face going home. The four walls of the apartment would still be echoing with the angry words and accusations that had been playing themselves over and over in her head all day like a stuck record. Besides, he might be there. In fact, he would be. They had been on identical shifts today, so he would have finished at the same time as her.

When she'd got in over an hour late this morning, having been trapped in her bedroom until the redness faded from her eyes and the puffiness of her lids subsided, she had been expecting a real dressing down, but no-one had batted an eyelid, and later she found out that Ray had made an excuse for her. She wasn't entirely sure what it had been, but everyone had bought it and didn't give her any hassle. She didn't understand why he had done it but she supposed she should be thankful to him for that if nothing else.

She was still shocked to the very core from the row. The awful things he had said to her, the awful things she had found herself driven to say to him. She had called him a heartless bastard, and he was anything but that. She didn't have a clue what it was that had made her want to hurt him back, and she obviously had the same effect on him. She didn't know if it meant they really were a disaster together, or whether it was down to something deeper than that. There had been times, especially lately, since her conversation in the park with Abby, when she had begun to believe it was the latter, but right now, she was convinced it was the former. All the evidence pointed firmly in that direction.

She shivered in the cold. A few drops of rain began to fall, but she was still fixed to the spot. She knew she should leave, but she had absolutely nowhere to go that wasn't tainted by memories of him. Here was bad enough.

Then she heard footsteps tentatively approaching behind her. She knew it was him.

'I thought I'd find you here.'

She didn't turn around. She couldn't. 'Go back inside Ray, it's raining.'

He stepped closer towards her, and she noticed that the voice he was using was the softer, tender tone that made her feel warm inside, and somehow hopeful. 'I could say the same to you.' He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, sheltering her body from the rain. 'Neela, you're shivering.'

'I'm cold, that's all.' She moved away from him, shying away from his touch. What was he doing here anyway? Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? There was nothing left to say.

'Neela, I…'

'What, Ray? What else could you possibly have to say to me that you haven't already?' She nearly spun around to face him, but she stopped herself. The rain had started in earnest now, bucketing down in thick, fat drops, but she knew if she looked at him he would still be able to tell the difference between that and her tears.

'I came to say I've been thinking. A lot. About what you were trying to say this morning.' He carefully didn't mention the argument, or that it was his fault that she hadn't finished her speech.

She didn't say anything, so he ploughed on, hoping he wasn't making things worse. 'And I don't think things can ever go back to the way they were.' He watched as her shoulders began to shake, and he knew she was crying. Although he felt bad for hurting her, he gained a little confidence from the fact that she obviously did care about him, despite her heated declaration of earlier.

Her heart sank. She hadn't even realised she had let herself build up her hopes again, even in the few seconds since he had been there, until she felt that horrific dark, sinking feeling in her chest all over again. Except this time, it really was the end. This was why she had pushed him away, why she had married someone else, to protect herself from _this_. She was only a few feet from the edge of the roof. It was looking bloody good. Anything but this.

He reached out to her again, placing a rough hand on her arm. 'Neela, please look at me.'

She shook her head. 'I can't Ray.'

'Please Neela.' Her stomach was doing slow but unmistakable somersaults at the way he said her name. He gently turned her around. 'Remember when you told me why you couldn't look at me.'

She did, only too well. And what had come afterwards.

'What I'm trying to say to you Neela, is that too much has happened between us for things to go back to how they used to be before all this. I… I guess I don't want us to go back.' There was a long pause, and he hoped she would give him some sort of indication of what she was thinking, but she just waited; her face impassive, staring resolutely at his chest. With the rain, he wasn't sure if she was still crying or not.

'I…' His voice quaked slightly with nerves, and she finally met his eyes. 'I want us to move forward Neela. I don't know how. But this is torture, and it can't stay the way it is. And…' He took a deep breath. 'And if I have to choose between all or nothing Neela, no, I don't mean that.' He wasn't going to make the same mistake again; this time there would be no misunderstandings. 'I _want_ to choose between all or nothing, and I choose all.'

He stroked her cheek, appealing to her. 'Please say something Neela.' He thought of something else, which he really should have worked in. When he had been planning all this in his head, an apology had been an integral part of it as well.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. When you said that you didn't mean for things to be this way, I knew what you meant, and I completely agree. I just… I don't know what came over me. You drive me crazy, in every way, do you know that?' He wiped away one of her tears with his thumb.

She was lost for words. He was saying all the things that she had wanted to say to him. All the things she had tried to say to him this morning, and he had thrown back at her. This was the stuff dreams were made of. But had she not decided only a matter of hours ago that this was one particular dream that wasn't going to come true? That it would be better for everyone if this ship just sailed. She looked up at him, and her heart melted. God, she loved him. She loved the way he held her and made her feel safe, and the way his hazel eyes looked at her as if she was the only girl in the world.

But she couldn't do this. She was married. She couldn't throw everything away. This was all just… too much.

She extricated herself from his grip, and he could see the panic in her eyes. He'd pushed her too far, too fast. He'd been thinking about them and their relationship; he'd forgotten that she'd still got a whole other relationship, a whole other marriage, of her own.

'Neela, wait. Please…'

She was already making her way to the stairwell. As he spoke, she began to run.

'I'm so sorry Ray. I can't. I just… can't.'

She fled from him. She didn't know what to do with herself, a large and very nearly overwhelming part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms but she couldn't allow herself to do that. Not with Michael's ring burning a band of guilt into her soul.

She wasn't sure if it was the rain that was running down her forehead into her eyes or her tears that were blinding her. Whichever it was, she couldn't see a thing, and before she knew it, she had caught her foot in a crack in the ground, and fell heavily on her hands and knees.

Ray watched her as she ran away, squinting through the darkness and rain at his hope of happiness disappearing. He saw in slow motion her foot catch, her ankle turn, and her body go sprawling to the floor. When she fell, he rushed over to her instantly.

'Neela? Neela, are you okay?' She had fallen awkwardly, but she hadn't hit her head. He still found his heart missing a beat though, until she moved.

She manoeuvred herself very gingerly so she was in a sitting position, wincing in pain. 'Umm, I think so. I went over on my ankle and… argh.' She tried to move it but it was already beginning to swell.

'Here we go.' He knelt beside her, putting a protective arm around her shoulders to comfort her, what had just gone on entirely forgotten. 'You've grazed your knees as well.' She held up her hands to him like a little girl, showing him a set of bloody palms to match.

'Come on, let's get you downstairs and see to all this. You might need an x-ray on that ankle to be on the safe side.' He had gone into doctor mode, and she wanted to draw him out of it, back to her. Now she was near to him again, part of her was pleased that her attempt at flight had failed.

'Can we just go home please Ray? I'm not badly hurt, it's only a bit of a sprain, and the grazes are superficial.'

He couldn't say no to the puppy dog eyes she gave him, and he was just grateful that despite fleeing from him only moments ago, she was now leaning into him, letting him hold her and take care of her.

'All right, if you're sure. Do you think you can stand up?'

'I don't know. If you'll help me, I'll try.' He put his arms around her, lifting her to her feet. When she was standing, neither of them moved away, conscious that this was the closest they had been to each other in well over a week. They were dripping wet, and freezing, but the shiver that Ray felt run down his spine was nothing to do with the cold. Her breath was warm on his chest, and the feel of her body, soft and painfully close, was sending his blood – and his thoughts – somewhere it really shouldn't be going. Reluctantly, he took a step back in case she noticed.

He put one arm round her waist, and supported her arm with the other. 'Do you think you can put enough weight on it to walk?'

She tried putting the foot down on the floor, but it was barely in contact with the ground before she was biting her lip in pain. 'It hurts Ray, I don't think I can do it, I'm sorry.'

'Don't worry about it.' She had gone pale with the pain, and he knew he really should make her get an x-ray, but he was too tempted by the prospect of spending a night nursing her, dressing her wounds and helping her around. 'I'll carry you.'

She let out a girlish giggle. 'Don't be silly Ray. We're on the roof; how on earth are you going to get me to the car?'

'Like this.' He swept her up in his arms, careful not to jar her foot too much. 'Come on, pay attention; you'll have to do the doors.'

In the dark, neither could see the other's smile.


	10. Antiseptic Wipes

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Okay, so I know I said I'd do alternate chapters, but I like this story best at the moment, so you're getting another one of these before Against the Odds gets an update. Thank you very much for all the reviews I am getting, they are all much appreciated.

When they got home, he lowered her carefully onto the sofa, and straightened up slowly. She wasn't heavy but the lift was broken and he'd just had to carry her all the way up the stairs, so his back was killing him.

She saw his expression of pain and gave him a concerned look. 'Are you okay Ray?'

'Yes, I'm all right, just a bit stiff.' He smiled at her. 'Don't worry about me, it's you who needs taking care of, remember? Wait there, I'll get some things to clean you up.'

'Do you think you could fetch me some dry clothes? I'm freezing.' Her teeth chattered involuntarily as if to prove her point, and it made him realise he was in the same state.

He went into her room and picked up her pajamas off her bed and took them out to her. 'Here you go. Umm, will you be able to manage to…?' He asked awkwardly.

'I think so. You go and get changed as well, I don't want you dripping all over me.' She grinned up at him, enjoying the new feeling of closeness between them that had arisen from him carrying her in his arms for so long. 'I'm fine, I'll call you if I need you,' she reassured him.

He retreated to his own bedroom and quickly shed his clothes; she was right, he was dripping wet and he shuddered slightly at the sight of her blood from her cut knees and palms spreading across his jumper. He put on a pair of sweatpants and an old hoodie, not wanting to waste any time that he could spend with her.

On his way back out to her, he went via the bathroom to get the little box of medical supplies they kept there. It was easily well equipped enough to be able to tidy up her cuts and scrapes.

When he entered the lounge again, she hadn't quite finished getting changed, and he caught a glimpse of her bare back, the lamplight giving her a soft glow. Feeling a little like a voyeur, but not enough to make him stop what he was doing, he watched silently from the doorway as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, all her movements slow and precise to avoid causing herself more pain. He felt his pulse quicken a little as she slid the black satiny straps down her arms before pulling a certain old t-shirt of his over her head. He wasn't sure if he was more turned on by the sight of her without it on, or with it. Whichever, he found the vision before him unbelievably erotic.

As soon as she was fully clothed, he stepped back into the room, and gave no indication he had been watching her, not willing to admit the guilty pleasure it had given him.

'Right, here we go.' He knelt in front of her and reached out to take her hands. Examining them, he could see that the grazes were as superficial as she had said; the bleeding had already stopped but there was a bit of grit in them that needed cleaning out. He took an antiseptic wipe out of the box, and ripped open its wrapper.

'This might sting a bit.'

She gave him a soft smile. 'It's all right Ray, I know how an antiseptic wipe works.'

While he worked away at her hands, she watched him. He was looking down at what he was doing, a look of intense concentration on his face. Every now and then, as he touched a particularly sensitive spot, she gave a sharp intake of breath, and every time it happened, he glanced up at her with concern.

After a while, she couldn't control herself any more. She reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand, the one he had finished working on. He looked up at her, their eyes meeting for a long moment. He didn't say anything, but he allowed a smile to creep into his eyes, and he leaned into her touch as he went back to his work.

When he had finished cleaning and dressing her hands, he carefully turned each one over and landed a brief kiss on the back of each one. It took her breath away, and sent a jolt of desire coursing through her.

'Right, let's have a look at your knees next.' He tried to sound detached and professional, hoping that treating her as a regular patient would dampen the growing arousal he felt, but his voice came out deep and husky, giving him away. He rolled her pajamas up her leg slowly and precisely, and they both knew it wasn't just about her injuries anymore. He let his hands caress her calves and he saw her fists clench and the rise and fall of her chest increase in speed as she tried to maintain control.

The cuts on her knees were worse than those on her hands, although not by much. One scrape was still bleeding a bit, but the rest were okay. Taking a clean wipe, he started easing the grit and dirt away. Every now and again, he paused to lean forward and gently brush her leg with his lips. He wasn't sure if the dizzy feeling that was clouding his head was down to the strong smell of ethanol the wipe was giving off, or the proximity of her. He had a feeling it was the latter.

He finished by taking a thick bandage out of the box and winding it around her sprained ankle to give it a bit of extra support. If the swelling and bruising hadn't gone down at all by morning, he would take her in for an x-ray, but not now. She might be in physical pain, but he knew the worst she had been suffering with lately was emotional pain, and he knew a very good cure for that.

When the bandaging was done, he put the lid back on the medical kit, and moved it aside, conscious of her dark eyes watching him all the while. He continued to kneel before her, but didn't say anything. He bent forward, and began to trail a line of soft kisses up the inside of her leg, starting at her ankle. Where there was exposed skin for him to savour, he spent longer over it, letting his tongue and teeth gently graze her. When the pajamas got in the way, he carried on kissing her through the material.

Neela couldn't cope with what he was doing to her. The feel of his lips and his breath and his touch were making her forget about the pain she was in. He was creating a different kind of pain entirely. And it was the way he was kissing her as well; he made her feel so cherished, and when he paused to look at her, the love in his eyes was unmistakable.

Sensing that this time, it really was okay, and that for once, nothing was going to come between them, before or after, Ray gently scooped her up in his arms and carried her through to her bedroom. Normally he would have chosen his, but he thought that in the morning, being in her own room would be easier for her if her ankle was still in a bad way.

He laid her on the bed and lowered himself down to kiss her. After a few minutes, he heard her give a sharp breath, and it sounded like she was in pain. He stopped immediately, moving his weight off her. 'I'm sorry, am I hurting you?'

She looked up him. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but her bruised and battered body couldn't withstand his usual onslaught. 'A little,' she admitted. 'You knocked my knee, that's all.'

'Sorry.' His eyes were full of concern, but despite her pain, she didn't want him treating her like a china doll. She wanted him to light that fire in her that somehow he always seemed to.

She leaned over to kiss him, pulling him back on top of her. He braced himself on his forearms, trying to support his weight so he wasn't pushing down on her too heavily, but before long, he couldn't stop himself; he wanted to be as close to her as he could.

She tugged the hoodie over his head and lifted her head off the pillow to kiss the newly uncovered skin. Her effort was rewarded by hearing him groan into the crook of her neck, where he had been focussing the attention of his lips for the last few minutes. One of his hands moved from where it had been caressing her through the material of the t-shirt, and slowly travelled underneath it. She felt his rough skin move up her stomach, his fingers stroking her ribcage as they went.

He knew from watching her earlier that she wasn't wearing anything under the t-shirt, so he had been waiting as long as he was able before he plunged his hand underneath it, but he couldn't resist any longer. He cupped a breast with his hand, and looked deeply into her eyes to see her reaction. Her eyelids fluttered briefly and she smiled up at him.

'Ray, please. Stop being careful, I want you, I want you to make love to me.' He responded to her request, pulling the t-shirt up and over her head. He bent his head down to kiss her hungrily, dividing his attention between her lips, and the perfect breasts he had just exposed. As he took one dark nipple between his teeth, he felt her arch into him and moan. The feel of her pressing against him was the last straw. Taking advantage of her raising her hips, he quickly pulled down the check pajama bottoms and his own sweats followed.

She ran her hands over his back, and he enjoyed the contrast between her soft hands and the roughness of the dressings he had put on her palms. Her fingers tangled themselves in his short hair, and she pulled him closer to her.

'Neela…' His breath as he whispered her name tickled her neck.

She moaned again. She couldn't feel any of her injuries anymore, the only pain now was caused by unfulfilled desire. Her hands crept downwards, down his back and over his buttocks, manoeuvring him towards her.

'Now, please. Ray. Ray…' As he entered her, she cried his name. He moved very slowly, savouring every sensation. She begged him to go faster, but he held out, thrusting at a steady pace without breaking their kiss.

It was some time before he tipped her gently over the edge, but when she came, her whole body convulsed with pleasure. He kissed away her moans and then her tears as the emotion of it all overwhelmed her. Then he let go of himself as well, and her satisfaction was complete.

When it was over, he levered himself off her, and settled down close to her, spooning her gently. He stroked her thigh, idly running his fingers up and down, enjoying this intimate routine of lovers.

'Neela?'

'Mmm?' She was already half asleep, the warmth of another body so close and afterglow from the sex having a soporific effect.

'I love you.' He braced himself for the stiffening of her body, the panicked flight. But it didn't come. She snuggled further into him, and it wasn't long before he realised she was asleep.

Hearing him tell her he loved her was the perfect end to a terrible day. She would never have guessed that such an awful morning could have ended so well, but she wasn't going to complain. Being with him always made her feel safe and protected, but it had moved to the next level now; she trusted him as well.

She was about to say it back to him, but sleep was starting to claim her. It didn't matter, was her last thought. There would be plenty of time in the morning. After tonight, they had all the time in the world.

Ray was still a long way from sleep; he was too wired to let himself drift off. He couldn't believe she was actually here in his arms, and he had summoned up his courage to not only tell her how he felt, but how he really felt; that he loved her, and she was still here. She hadn't run in fear, she hadn't rejected him; she had accepted him. It was more than he had ever thought possible, yet here she was, and from the way she had fitted the contours of her body against his and the thousand watt smile that was etched onto her face, even in sleep, he knew she wasn't going anywhere this time.

He let his eyes travel slowly around the room, taking in his surroundings. He hadn't been in here very often, respecting her space, but he was surprised at how at home he felt. Maybe it was simply that being near her made him feel at home. He lifted an arm, and carefully reached over her, trying not to disturb her, to turn the lamp off that sat on the little table next to her bed. As he did so, the photo sitting beside it caught his eye.

It was her and Gallant, together, on their wedding day. Right there, so it was the last thing she would see when she fell asleep at night and the first thing she saw when she woke up in the morning. Even with everything that had been going on lately, it was still there, in pride of place.

He stared at it for the longest time, a dull numbless slowly diffusing through his body, a sharp and painful contrast to the passion of earlier. He didn't know what to think. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to ruin what had just happened by taking off or making a scene, but nor could he lie there next to her all night, knowing that just inches away were the eyes of her husband, watching him. He flirted with the idea of hiding the photo in a drawer, or turning it face down, but he didn't want her to think he was being disrespectful, and besides, it didn't matter what he did to the bloody thing, he had seen it now, and nothing could erase such a vision of contentment and happiness from his mind.

God, this was why he _never_ got involved with married women. However wonderful they were, whatever he felt about them, there would always be this moment of self loathing and guilt as he imagined what he would ever feel like if some man did to him what he had just done to them. And Gallant was a decent guy, everyone said it.

He needed some air. He knew it was doing a runner, and that come the morning, if he hadn't come to terms with all this and got his ass back beside her before she woke up, he would have blown his one and only chance with the beautiful and amazing girl that somewhere along their rollercoaster journey he had decided was his soul mate. But it was a risk he had to take.

Very quietly, so as not to wake her, he slipped out of the bed and put his clothes back on. He paused once to look back at her from the doorway, committing the sight of her peaceful, happy face to his memory just in case it was the last time he would ever get to see it, then he went out into the night.

Author's Note: Okay, I know I never end with a note as well, but I just wanted to say sorry for the ending! Please don't shoot me!


	11. Honesty

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: I was a little bit tempted to let them have their happy ending after what happened in the last chapter, but along with the scene on the roof, I have a couple more nice angsty little scenes that have been half written since before I even began writing this story that I want to work into this. And besides, I still don't think it would be that simple for them. So onwards we go. Thank you for the reviews, and please keep them coming – the more reviews I get, the quicker I update. (Oh, and by the way, don't think you'll be getting any more of Against the Odds until I get more than two reviews for my last chapter!! I am a mean, review hungry writer who demands feedback for inspiration.)

Ray stalked the streets of Chicago through the night, trying to clear his mind. For a long time, he walked aimlessly, not noticing the rain pelting down, or the nameless streets he passed through. Every now and again, he paused to kick a wall or a fence or a piece of trash lying in the gutter angrily; anything to try to ease the frustration he was feeling.

What the Hell was he playing at? He had everything he wanted. All his dreams and fantasies and prayers of the last months had come true, but it was as if he couldn't let himself believe it. He kept having to remind himself he had just made love to Neela; not had sex with her, like all the other times, but truly, really made love to her. The night he stopped her from leaving, that awful rendezvous in the supply cupboard; that had all been about hiding their emotions from each other, using physical contact as an excuse to avoid an emotional engagement, but what had just happened had laid their every emotion and thought and feeling utterly bare. All it had taken was one look, one deep look into each other's eyes, and there were no secrets now.

Or so he had thought. Why did she still have her wedding photo by her bedside? Thoughts ran through his mind at a rate of knots, making his head spin. He didn't expect her to simply turn off her feelings for Michael like a tap, but he thought he deserved for her to at least start trying to leave him behind. For him, there had been none of the usual meaningless liaisons with attractive, empty headed young things from bars, so why should she still get a husband? It just wasn't fair.

In his more rational moments, the flashes of lucidity that struck him once every half a dozen blocks or so, he knew he was being ridiculously, unbelievably, completely unreasonable. After the argument they had had that morning, and the things he had said to her, she had retreated to her room until he left. Perhaps when she shut herself in there she had decided once and for all to give up on him – the sag of her shoulders when he came up behind her on the roof told him that he had destroyed all her hopes for the future in that row. Perhaps she had looked long and hard at that photo, fixing upon Michael, her husband, as being her future. Perhaps she had taken all those wildly hurtful things as an insurmountable obstacle in them being together.

And after that, he couldn't blame her for having the photo there. She wasn't to know that he would finally pluck up the courage to come chasing after her, finally conquer the fear of rejection that had been plaguing him for so long. She wasn't to know that he loved her.

But now she did. What should really worry him, he thought, was whether or not the photo would still be there in a year's time. He hoped it wouldn't be, but he knew that if he carried on behaving like this, it stood a very good chance of being in just the same pride of place as it was now.

It was somewhere around four in the morning, he guessed, that it hit him just how foolish he was being. It was only a bloody photo. Okay, so it represented an awful lot more than that, but if they took their time and talked things through, they could do this. It would require patience, honesty and understanding on both their parts, but in bed earlier, they had had all that in just one look. And love conquers all, right?

He looked around him to try to get his bearings. Where the Hell was he? He walked over to the street corner to try to find a sign to give him some sort of indication. When he found it, he realised just how far he'd walked. He groaned out loud; it would take him hours to get home. He began to look around hopefully for any sign of a taxi cruising around, but he knew that it was pretty futile; how many cabs were there likely to be around in a residential street at four in the morning on a weekday? Not that he had his wallet on him anyway, so he couldn't pay for a cab even in the unlikely event he came across one.

As he began to think rationally again, a general feeling of how stupid he was began to creep in. Not just his behaviour towards Neela, which was of course prize winningly idiotic, but he had just spent the last goodness knows how many hours wandering around in the pouring rain in the dead of night, with no coat or jacket, he didn't have his cellphone on him, and he had no idea what parts of town he might have walked through.

There was nothing for it but to walk. And quickly. He set off in the direction of home, hoping that he would get back before she woke.

It was nearly two hours later when he quietly let himself back into the apartment. The whole place was in darkness and as he paused inside the doorway, straining his ears, he couldn't hear a sound. Please let that mean she's still asleep. He reasoned that it probably did; it was still only about six o'clock, and there was no way she'd be able to go into work with her ankle the way it was, so there was no reason for her to be awake. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He slipped into his room to change out of his wet clothes, then went into the kitchen. He was so cold he could hardly move his fingers and in the absence of brandy or something similar, the next best thing he could think of to warm himself up was a mug of hot chocolate. Moving around quietly, keen not to disturb her, he warmed some milk in a pan and fumbled around in the cupboards for the jar of cocoa. When he had a steaming mug in his hands, bringing a little of the feeling back into his fingers, he went into the lounge to sit down.

As he walked in the door, before he'd even had the chance to turn the light on, a voice came from the darkness, cutting through the silence.

'Why did you leave me?'

His hand hovered by the light switch for a moment, before he decided he didn't have the courage to meet her eyes. He could imagine the look in them from the hurt, accusatory tone of her voice.

'I…' He started, but couldn't continue. There were no excuses for taking off like that.

'I woke up and you were gone Ray.' He heard her voice tremble a little, and he knew she was far more upset than she was angry, which made him feel even worse. But he couldn't help lashing out.

'Well, now you know what it feels like.' He sounded petty and childish, and he knew it, hating himself for the words as soon as they slipped out.

'That was different. That was before… You told me you loved me, Ray, then you disappeared.'

'Oh, so you heard me then? I did wonder, given that you didn't bother to say it back.'

What was the matter with him? Why was he saying all this? Why couldn't he just take her in his arms and tell her that he was scared, and was sorry for being scared, and that all he wanted was to be with her forever? He still didn't understand what it was about her that sparked such a hurtful and vindictive streak in him. Bitchiness wasn't usually in his nature.

'I was practically asleep Ray. I thought there would be no harm in waiting for the morning. Of course, I was under the impression you would still be next to me in the morning.' She paused, and he could hear that he was getting to her. His words had ignited in her that irrational desire to wound, to cause pain, that was attacking him. 'Obviously I was wrong about that. Maybe I've been wrong about a lot of things.'

'Wrong about me?'

'Wrong about believing you last night.' He knew she was referring to when he said he loved her.

'You weren't wrong about that.' He wanted to hurt her, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her in order to do it.

His admission made her bite her tongue, stopping herself from thinking of a new jibe. So he did love her. And she knew he was telling the truth.

When Neela had been woken by the sound of a siren screaming past in the street below, she had immediately sensed she was alone. All there was left of him was an indent on the pillow and a vague vestige of warmth remaining where his body had been. There were no words to describe how stricken she had been when she had realised that he was gone, not just from her bed, but from the apartment as well.

Thanks to her ankle, it had taken her a long time to get up, and make her way from her bedroom into the lounge. She wanted to be somewhere that was neutral territory, neither her room nor his, and somewhere where they had to talk. It was too easy for them to just fall into bed, using their bodies to say the things that their words couldn't. After a few false starts, she had hoped the actions of last night would have been enough to make where they stood clear enough, but his absence informed her in the most brutal way that it hadn't. This time there would be no escape route, no quick fix. This time, they were going to talk, she was determined. And so she had waited.

And he hadn't come home drunk, or with some girl he had picked up, as she had half been expecting. He had come home capable of talking, even if he didn't want to. So that's what she was going to make him do.

'Maybe I was wrong to think that this was going to be easy.'

The confrontational, bitter tone had passed from her voice, and Ray felt that she wanted to talk. To have _the talk_. She was right; they needed it. He made his way into the room from the doorway, and settled himself in an armchair, not trusting himself if he was any closer to her. He could just about make her out in the darkness, a shadow within shadows.

'Easy, Neela? I don't think either of us ever thought it was going to be that.'

'Sorry, I didn't mean easy. Easy isn't the right word. I meant, maybe I was wrong to think that things were just going to fall into place after earlier. We hadn't talked, we hadn't thought about the consequences; all we had done was come to terms with the way we felt about each other. So I think I was wrong to assume that waving a magic wand would make all this okay.'

He nodded, although she couldn't see him do it. 'Yes, I think you were wrong to think that.'

'Did you think it too?'

'I hoped it,' he admitted. Then, 'I saw the picture of you and Gallant beside your bed. That was why I went. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have run.'

'No, you shouldn't have, but I understand why you did. You were doubting me, weren't you?'

He didn't know what would be a wise answer to that. He was worried that if he said yes, he would drive her further away, but he decided that being honest was the best route. 'Yes. And the guilt hit me as well, at the same time. I couldn't bring myself to stay.'

'If it helps Ray, I feel as guilty as Hell. I think we've got to come to terms with the fact that what we're doing _is_ wrong, we _are_ hurting people, and we _should_ be feeling bad about it. That's just all a given, there's nothing we can do about it. But if we can't stop what we're doing, we've got to decide how we're going to deal with it.'

When he didn't say anything, she went on. 'And as far as the doubting me goes –'

He cut her off. 'I'm sorry, I don't mean to doubt you, it's just… You're married. You felt this way about me, and you _still _married him. And in that picture, you look happy. You look like you made the right choice.'

'I didn't. I was happy, but I didn't make the right choice. You are my right choice Ray, you always were, even when I was too blind to see it.' In the darkness, she reached out and found his hand. 'My heart has given up on my marriage; that's even if it was in it in the first place. Please just be patient with me as my head gives up on it as well. I promise you I'm getting there.'

He squeezed her hand. He felt like she was doing all the talking, and that he should be contributing something, but every worry, every query he had, she was addressing. It was as if she knew all his darkest thoughts and fears, and one by one, was shooting them down.

'I love you Neela.'

'I know.'

There was a very long pause while she summoned up her courage. For a minute, he was scared that she wouldn't say it back, but she did. 'I love you too Ray.'

'Is it going to be enough?' He had to know, he had to ask. There was no way she could leave him on tenterhooks for any longer.

'Yes. I can't give you an exact date or a definite timeframe, but yes, it is going to be enough. And soon. I can't promise you everything, but I can promise you that.'

It was an imprecise, vague declaration of her feelings, but to Ray, it smacked of an honesty that a more flowery statement would have lacked. Finally, he felt a feeling of trust for her trickle through his veins. It was at that moment that he knew that even though it might take a while, and that they probably weren't out of the woods yet, in the end, somehow, everything was going to be all right.


	12. Disguises

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, especially for the last chapter – I've been wanting to write that one for _so _long. I thought it was about time they started behaving like grown ups! Oh, and I've probably got the time to write one more chapter before Easter, and whether it's for this one or Against the Odds is entirely up to you. Most reviews wins! (NB, I don't know whether or not you get lucozade in the US, but it's an energy drink – I don't know what a suitable alternative would be.)

After their discussion, Ray carried Neela back into her bedroom, and made up his mind to leave her to sleep. He longed to stay with her, but he didn't want to jeopardise their unexpected progress by doing or saying the wrong thing, and he told her so.

Perching on the edge of the bed, he lovingly tucked the covers up under her chin, then took her hand. 'I don't think I should stay in here tonight.'

'Ray –' Immediately, panic gripped her that her honesty had driven him away. She had been worried that her very stark, very frank words would have been too much for him to take, and now it looked like he was running away, which was just what she had been scared of.

He saw the fear in her eyes, and was quick to set her mind at rest. 'Don't get me wrong, I would love to, but I feel like we've made a pretty big step forward tonight and I don't want anything to get in the way of that. I don't want to crowd you, you need time to think.' His eyes twinkled at her playfully. 'And if I was here, I can guarantee you you wouldn't be capable of thoughts. So reluctantly I am going to kiss you goodnight,' He leant forward, and met her lips in a long and lingering kiss that reassured her even more than his words, 'and leave you to sleep.'

'Thank you Ray.' She could see in his eyes how much it was costing him to walk away, and was grateful for his effort. She wished she didn't have to put him through it, but if they were serious about this, and finally she knew for sure that they were, it was necessary for now. 'I don't know how much point there is in going back to sleep though, I'm meant to be on in a couple of hours.'

'Have you seen your ankle?' he said solicitously. 'You're not going anywhere; you can't walk, there's no way you can go to work, so make the most of the opportunity to get some decent sleep. I'll call you in sick, but I don't expect I'll get away with staying here with you. Will you be able to manage okay on your own?'

'Yes, I'll be fine. Tell Luka I'll be back as soon as I can.'

'I will do. Sleep well, and take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.' He bent down to give her one last kiss, then made to go.

In the doorway, he turned back to give her a goodbye smile, and as he did so, his eyes flickered of their own accord to the bedside table, focussing on the spot beside the lamp. It was empty; the picture had gone.

He stopped and stared at the space it had previously occupied, wondering what it meant. Had she removed it because she wanted to, because she was ready to, or was it because she didn't want it to come between them so she thought that she ought to? He hoped it was the former, but he suspected it was a combination of the two. She was ready to remove it, but she hadn't realised she was until his reaction had forced her into it.

Neela followed his gaze, although she knew what he was looking for. When she'd woken up and realised he was gone, she had had a feeling the picture had been the cause of his change of heart, and his later admission had only confirmed her suspicions.

'It's over there.' She indicated to a discreet shelf in the corner, where it now stood alongside framed pictures of her graduation, a couple of old family ones and a school one.

Ray looked over to where she pointed.

'It's my "important parts of my past which have made me who I am today" shelf,' she explained. 'I thought it deserved a place there.' She was ready to move it from its place of prominence, but he was still her husband, and if it hadn't been for her marriage, she didn't know if she and Ray would be where they were now. If she hadn't felt compelled to move out, he would never have revealed his feelings to her in order to make her stay, and they would still be living in their little world of longing glances and "accidental" brushes of bodies that had been slowly but surely driving them both crazy. That's why she was holding firm on the picture being on display.

Ray thought about her words, and decided she had summed it up pretty well. 'That sounds about right to me.'

'Good, I wouldn't want it to come between us again.'

He smiled at her, and couldn't resist coming back to her for another kiss. 'It won't, I promise. Not now.'

He left her to herself after that, but didn't bother going back to bed. His shift started at eight and he knew from long experience that having an hour's sleep was worse than none at all. Plenty of black coffee and lucozade, and just battle on through, it was the only way. He called the hospital, and quickly got put through to Luka when he asked for him.

'Luka, its Ray.'

'Hey man, is everything all right?'

'Yep, I was just calling in to say that Neela sprained her ankle yesterday, and it's the size of a football. She can't put any weight on it, so she won't be able to make her shift today.'

'That's okay, without tempting fate, it's looking like its going to be a quiet one, we're practically empty at the moment, so it should be all right. How is she?'

'Not too bad, just stranded with her foot in the air until the swelling goes down. I might bring her in for an x-ray tomorrow if it's still getting worse, but it just looks like a bit of soft tissue damage to me, nothing too serious.'

'Not a bad way to get a few days off then,' Luka chuckled. 'Are you still good to come in?'

'Yes, if you need me. She could do with the help, but she's not so bad that I can't leave her.' He ached to stay at home with her, to make her tea and cook her food and carry her from bed to sofa, and back to bed again, but he didn't feel that he could leave the hospital in the lurch and he had promised to give her some space.

'Well, I'd like you to come in, I can't really afford to be down two of you, then if it's still dead, you can go early. Deal?'

'Thanks Luka, sounds good. I'll see you in a bit.'

Ray placed the phone back in the cradle and began to tidy up around the place. In the lounge, her still wet clothes lay in a heap on the floor not far away from where he'd left the medical kit. He remembered those intimate moments in the lamplight with a thrill. He'd never felt as close to anyone in his life as he had to her while he had been kneeling before her, dressing her wounds. He had wanted that moment to last forever.

It hadn't, of course, and now they had talked, had a proper conversation about what was happening, he felt more encouraged about their future, but that night had been pure magic, the sort he knew he would look back at in years to come as, unrivalled, the most romantic and passionate moment of his life. Nothing could ever surpass that. And whatever came of all this, he would treasure it for as long as he lived.

By the time he arrived at work, he had just about managed to pull himself out of his reverie, and back into the real world. It had taken the entire drive to do so, and he had done it regretfully. In the eyes of the real world, Neela was eagerly awaiting Gallant's return and he was just a pathetic, moping loser who was in mad, unrequited love with his married roommate. Only Abby had the slightest clue of anything to the contrary. Every day he had to keep the pretence up took a little more effort than the last.

As he walked through the doors, he saw straight away that Luka had been right, it was every bit as quiet as he had told him. Almost everyone who was on were gathered around the admit desk, eating doughnuts, drinking coffee and killing time. He always hated shifts like these, and he hated them even more so these days, when spare time meant he had to be constantly on guard from Morris's vulgar enquiries (he still hadn't quite forgotten those scratches, although Ray had been a lot more careful since then about who was in the locker room when he was getting changed) and Pratt's concerned questions about Neela's state of mind regarding her absent husband. What he wouldn't give for a decent trauma.

'Barnett,' Morris called out. 'Come on in and join the party.' He held out the tray of doughnuts.

Ray put on his best happy face to avert suspicion and took the proffered food, hoping the sugar rush would wake him up a bit. 'Is it that quiet?'

'Two drunks sleeping off a skinful, one mild flu, one in for observation after an asthma attack and a guy who had some glass in his hand after a bar room brawl waiting for his brother to come and pick him up,' Pratt replied.

Ray gave him an astonished look. It hadn't been that quiet in here in… ever. 'You're kidding me.'

'Nope, straight up, sorry. You'd better kick back and enjoy the fun.'

Ray stifled his groan and sat down. He got to spend the day with Gallant's best mate and the most irritating buffoon known to emergency medicine while Neela was lying at home in bed…He shut off his mind and refused to allow himself to explore that route. It was too frustrating.

Before he became too settled, Luka took him aside, and added to his misery. 'I'm off in an hour but I've told Morris that if it's still dead at lunchtime, he's to let you go. I –' Luka let his eyes slide away, not certain of how Ray would take his insinuation, but sure enough of his ground to make it. 'I didn't say anything about Neela, I didn't want to… encourage the gossips.' He chose his words delicately.

The younger doctor looked up at him sharply. 'What are you impl –'

'It doesn't matter what I'm implying, as long as I keep it to myself, does it?' Dark Croatian eyes steadily met Ray's angry glare.

'Is that a threat?'

'No Ray, it's a "please be careful". You're on very dangerous ground. So far you and Neela have done extremely well in keeping the lid on this, and keeping it out of the hospital. But if I've noticed, in time, others will too.'

Ray knew he was going to have to come clean. At least it was Luka, not anyone else. He could be trusted not to breathe a word, for the good of the team if not for his and Neela's sakes.

'Did Abby tell you?'

He shook his head. 'No, please give her a little more credit than that. I've had my suspicions for a while, and when I came on yesterday, Kerry told me Neela had been late in, and that you had covered for her, and that she had been in a mess all day. I guessed it was something to do with you. And there have been other things as well, insignificant moments, but added together… And when I asked Abby about it, she refused to comment, which confirmed it for me.'

Ray hung his head. He was ashamed of what they were doing, just not enough to make him stop. 'Please Luka, just don't say anything.'

'I won't, but don't you think it would be a good idea for you guys to knock it off? Her husband is due home in what now, a few weeks? She can move into Abby's in the meantime to save you from the awkwardness…' He couldn't finish when he saw the look in Ray's eyes. It was pure agony, and he knew it only too well.

Every time he'd seen Abby with Carter, back all those years ago now, that same pain had been in his heart. The anguished, torturous feeling of wanting to step back, to forget your feelings ever existed in order to do the right thing, but knowing beyond all doubt that it was impossible to do so.

'Oh God, that bad?' he asked sympathetically.

'Worse,' Ray admitted quietly.

Luka knew there was nothing he could say. He put a comforting hand briefly on his shoulder. 'Good luck.'

'Thanks.'

Luka left him and Ray had no choice but to turn back to the admit desk, where a lively discussion ensued between Morris, Pratt and a couple of porters about whether domineering or submissive women were better in bed.

Even though the conversation disgusted him, and he would have rather been a million miles away (or even just in a certain apartment halfway across town), from his hearty laugh and the nonchalantly offered opinion he gave, they never guessed that he felt like he was dying inside.


	13. A shock

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: The stories were tied on reviews, but you got a chapter of this because I'm beginning to work up towards Michael's return now, which as you might have guessed will be the crescendo of this story. Sorry I won't be able to update over Easter, I have friends coming to stay, it's all going to be very hectic, and there is an amazing weather forecast, so any spare time I have will be spent sunning myself, not writing I'm afraid. Hope you all have a good Easter weekend.

The shift didn't pick up at all as the day went on. A few more cases rolled in and out, but nothing that even remotely bordered on the critical or interesting and nothing that couldn't be handled by the bare minimum of staff. And so, even though Ray had been half doubting that he would remember, sure enough, at about one o'clock, Morris paused his game of poker with Pratt and Frank to call Ray over.

'Hey, Ray.'

Not in the mood for cards and having eaten as much rubbish as even he could manage in one sitting, Ray was in front of the computer, idling away the time by writing an email to Brett. He hadn't seen him in a while, and even though he knew that Brett was hopeless at checking his emails, and probably wouldn't read it for weeks, he felt a little better having touched base with his old friend. Plus, typing industriously made him look busy so people were more inclined to leave him alone.

He spun the chair around when he heard his name called.

'If you want me to make up the numbers in your little game, sorry, but you're going to have to count me out. Us penniless residents can't afford to throw away our hard earned cash on gambling.'

'Nah, I was just going to say, Kovac told me if it was quiet, I was to let you go at lunchtime, so –' Pratt immediately jumped in to cut him off.

'Hey, why does he get to go? He's only a resident, I say make him stay and I'll be the one heading out of here, thanks very much. There's no need for two attendings to be on when it's like this.' He was indignant.

Morris shook his head, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. 'Nope, sorry man. Kovac's orders. He said Ray's been working his butt off recently and deserved a bit of extra time.'

Ray knew that much was true. There had been many occasions in the past weeks where, in an effort to avoid Neela, he had pulled doubles and taken people's unwanted shifts off their hands just so he hadn't had to be in the apartment. And when he had been working, he had been working _hard_. Anything so long as he didn't have to think. He'd never seen himself as the type who could bury themselves in their work, but it had been surprisingly easy, and he had taken pleasure from still being in control of one area of his life.

Pratt nodded at Morris's reasoning. It was fair and he knew it. Everyone had noticed Ray's sudden increased dedication to his work, although no-one other than Luka had thought to question what was behind it.

'Can't argue with that. Lucky you, make the most of it.'

He forced his face into what passed as a casual smile, which he gave to Pratt and turned to Morris. 'Are you sure I can go?' Ray tried to look as if he was surprised by his sudden stroke of luck. He was grateful to Luka for wording the order in a way that made it seem just that he should get to go, and left him open for no difficult questions.

'Yep, that's what the boss says. And it's hardly like we're swamped, so go for it. Have a good rest of the day.'

Ray quickly signed out of his email account on the computer and got up. 'Cheers guys, I will do,' he replied, being careful not to let any note of elation creep into his voice, lest he appear too excited. He didn't stop to crow over them as he once might have done, hurrying to the locker room, anxious to be gone.

When he had left, Morris and Pratt were about to turn their attention back to their cards when Frank shook his head sagely.

'There's something up with him.'

Both the doctors frowned in confusion. 'What sort of something?' Pratt asked.

'I don't know. I'd say women trouble knowing him, but then, I've never known him stick with one long enough to let them trouble him, so maybe not. What do I know?'

'He has been working hard, which isn't like him. Usually he's too busy playing his guitar to be spending much time in here, but he's been pulling a helluva lot of shifts lately,' Pratt replied.

Morris, having ascertained that Frank had no real gossip to offer beyond idle speculation leaned back to grab a slice of cake off a tray sitting on the side behind him, but Pratt's curiosity was piqued. He considered the situation thoughtfully.

The more he mulled it over, the more he decided Frank was right. There was something definitely amiss.

'See,' Frank was triumphant. 'Working hard, that's not like Barnett at all.' He sat back in his chair as if he had presented conclusive evidence.

There was a short pause before Morris, bored, ended the conversation. 'Come on guys, what happened to the game here? You losers afraid I'm going to wipe you out?'

Pratt looked back at his cards, but not before he heard Frank mutter, 'Mark my words,' under his breath, which was just enough to make him resolve to find out what was going on.

Ray rushed out of the building and to his car, feeling like a kid who had been let out of school early. There was nothing in the world like that surge of youthful excitement at an unexpected moment of freedom. Man, he wished he was that easy to please these days.

On the drive home, he stopped to buy Neela a bunch of flowers. He knew it was a bit of a cliché, but it suddenly occurred to him he had never bought her anything before, and he didn't want her to feel pressured if he gave her something more lasting or serious like jewellery. Flowers would be pretty, simple and he hoped she would like them.

He stood in front of the stand, spending more time than he knew he probably should do on making his choice. Roses were out, they fell into the too much, too soon category alongside jewellery. He thought the lilies were nice, but he'd made the mistake of giving them to an ex-girlfriend once who had been swift to inform him that they were the flower traditionally associated with death, so he decided against those as well.

Eventually the vendor went up to him.

'Can I help you sir?'

'Umm, yes. I'm after some flowers,' Wow, Ray, he thought to himself, you're after flowers from a flower stand? No wonder the guy was looking at him like he was an idiot. He ploughed on, trying to push the strong feeling of embarrassment to the back of his mind. 'I'm not sure what I'm looking for, nothing too romantic, something bright and colourful I guess.'

The vendor took pity on Ray's obvious indecision and lack of knowledge. He indicated to a bucket of hot pink, yellow and orange flowers. 'How about these gerbera daisies? If you don't mind waiting for a minute, I can make them up into a nice bouquet with a few other bits and pieces.'

Ray looked down at the flowers he was being offered. They certainly fulfilled the bright and colourful criteria. 'Sure, those will do fine.'

He waited impatiently while the guy expertly chose flowers and trimmed stems, stamping his feet and blowing on his hands to keep out the biting wind. When he was done, Ray was forced to admit that the resulting bouquet was worth the wait. He handed over the money and thanked the vendor.

When he got back to the apartment, he called out to Neela, trying to ascertain what room she was in. 'Hey, I'm home.'

He froze though, when he heard her voice, and she wasn't talking to him.

'Well, I can't go house hunting now, my ankle's half the size of the apartment and I can't get around at all. I had to call in sick for work today.'

She was in the lounge, and tentatively he made his way towards the room. He knew from her tone she was on the phone to her husband. He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping but he couldn't stop himself. He approached her noisily enough so she knew he was there, giving her the chance to change the subject or end the call if she wanted.

As he appeared in the doorway, she turned from where she was lying on the sofa, her foot resting on a mound of cushions, and his heart stopped at the stricken look in her eyes. Something was badly wrong. He felt the flowers that he had spent so long agonising over slip slowly out of his grasp to fall forgotten to the floor as they continued to stare at each other.

'No, no, I'm fine. Ray's helping me.' Her mouth formed the words with considerable effort, as she was conscious of her lover's eyes on her and her husband's sharpened ear on the other end of the phone, keen to any change of tone in her voice.

There was a pause while she didn't say anything, and Ray assumed Michael must be commenting on how helpful he was being or some patronising shit like that. It took every ounce of his willpower not to dash over and grab the phone out of her hand.

_Leave her alone. You left her to go to Iraq, so why don't you just stay there? You chose war over her, so leave her alone to choose me over you. _The thoughts burned in his mind.

'But I'm afraid the house hunting will have to wait. Yes, I know, I know, but there's nothing I can do about it. Look I had better go Michael. I'm catching up on some medical journals while I'm laid up here and I ought to get back to it. Take care of yourself, and umm, see you… see you next week.'

Ray saw tears spring to her wide, worried eyes as she finished the conversation. But he was more concerned about her words.

'Next week?'

'Next week,' she confirmed quietly.

'I thought he wasn't due back for a month yet.' Ray felt his heart sinking. He had thought they had had a little more time to themselves before reality was going to rear its ugly head. But someone up there wasn't smiling on them.

'His tour isn't meant to finish for another month, but he's picked up a bit of shrapnel in his leg in a roadside bombing. It's not a serious injury, but he asked if he could go home to recuperate, and they've let him.'

'I see.'

'Oh Ray.' Her voice broke, and her face crumpled into tears. He rushed over to her and enveloped her in his arms. He bit his lip as he felt her body racking with sobs. He wanted to offer her some crumbs of comfort, but the sharp reminder that she was someone else's wife made the words stick in his throat.

'Ray, I don't know what to do. A week. We've only got a week left.'

He didn't like the sound of that. It sounded quite final to him, and in a way that was not in his favour. Only last night, she had been promising herself to him. Only last night, he had her. The decision had been made, and now, all his dreams had been skittled to the floor and were lying in tatters.

She felt his arms stiffen around her, and he sat woodenly beside her. She pulled backwards to look into his eyes. 'Ray?'

'You're going back to him, aren't you?' There was nothing accusatory in his tone; it was even, matter of fact. As if he already knew the answer.

Her moment of silence told him enough, and he drew back from her, standing up. He shook his head slowly, in disbelief.

'You told me you loved me…'

'I do. Ray, I love you so much. I need you, I can't lose you, I'm nothing without you. I just need more time.' He wanted to be gone, it was written all over him, and the sobs increased in intensity as she knew she had no right to stop him.

He was ready to take flight, but he stopped, her pleas tugging at his heart. He couldn't lose her either, if she was nothing without him, then without her, he was less than nothing, he wanted no life at all if she wasn't a part of it. A day without her in it wasn't one that was worth getting up for. He couldn't leave. However much it hurt to stay, there was no choice. If there had been a choice, he wouldn't have been in this in the first place.

He sat down, defeated, in the armchair, his head in his hands. He couldn't bear to look at her. 'Do you have any idea what you're doing to me Neela? You keep building my hopes up and then you knock them down again and again. I wish so much that I could walk away but we both know I can't.'

'Ray, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to do this, I know I'm hurting you. But… I just had it in my head that I could spend the next few weeks, with you, and working up my courage to talk to Michael when he got home.' She looked across at him, hoping he understood. 'And now… now it's all here. Now. And I don't know if I'm ready.'

'Well, this is it Neela. You've got to be ready. Because if you're not, he'll sweep you off to some pretty little house and white picket fence in the suburbs and away from me, and that will be it. I love you more than life itself, but I am _not_ going to fight for you. You have to _choose_ me. If you don't come to me entirely of your own accord, by your own volition, then don't bother to come at all.'

He knew he was laying his heart on the line, but he hoped the ultimatum would force her to make her decision. There were times and moments, looks and touches, that made him think that somewhere deep inside of her, she had made it, but he had to make her admit it to herself. When he thought he had a month left to do that, he hadn't been worried, but now he was. He didn't think a week was enough, and that scared him, but there was nothing he could do.

'Why does it have to be so hard?' she asked, wiping away her tears. He ached to reach out and do it for her, but he stopped himself.

'Because the best things in life don't come easy.'


	14. Desperation

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Surprise update folks! Think of it as an Easter present. The last chapter was getting really long, so I decided to split it, and this one was three quarters written, so it seemed a shame not to finish it off and save it to post now to keep you going. As I've been extra nice in giving you this, would you like to be extra nice and review it?

They sat there for a long time, still as stone and resolutely not looking at each other. The silence that fell between them wasn't awkward, but it was pregnant, full of tension and meaning.

Eventually, Neela was the first to move. She gently levered her leg off the cushions and manoeuvred herself around so she was sitting on the sofa instead of lying. Then, gritting her teeth against the pain, she started to pull herself up.

Ray turned to look at her. 'What are you doing?'

'I think I'm going to lie down. I'm tired, I…' _Be honest Neela. At least be honest to him_. 'I need to be alone for a little while.'

'Why didn't you ask me to help you?' She couldn't believe that after what had just gone on, he sounded more hurt now than by anything else.

'Because… I don't deserve your help. I don't deserve _you_.'

He looked at her, her face stained with tears and etched with pain. She was the worthy one, and whatever she did and even if she ripped his heart out over this, he would always, always think of her as worthy of the very best. He didn't know how she couldn't see that.

'No, Neela, you don't deserve me, you deserve so much more than me. But I'm here, and every day I try a little bit harder to make myself more worthy of you, and I live in hope that someday I will be able to walk down the street next to you, with my hand in yours, and feel like I belong there.'

She was crying again. His words moved something deep in her very core. He was being absolutely genuine, she could see the earnestness in his eyes as he spoke. His strength of feeling for her took her breath away.

Instead of giving him a direct answer to his empassioned statement, she blinked away her tears, and held out her arms to him. 'Please will you help me to my room Ray?'

He bent down and lifted her, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck and her head resting against his chest, where she felt safe and protected from the world. As he carried her through the doorway, she saw the flowers lying on the floor.

'What are they?'

'Flowers.'

He stepped over them, making his way to her room. He carefully put her down on the bed and returned to the lounge wordlessly to collect the mountain of cushions she had been using to prop her leg up. As he went to give them to her, she grabbed his wrist, preventing him from escaping.

'Did you buy them for me?'

'No, I stole them.' His voice was still cold and forbidding but there was the slightest glint in his eye that offset it.

'Are they "get well soon" flowers?'

He shook his head sadly. Normally he wouldn't want to seem so desperate, but it didn't matter now anyway. 'No, they're "I love you but I'm scared shitless you're going to hurt me so badly I'm never going to mend" flowers.'

She gulped. His honesty frightened her. She was frightened that she could actually affect another human being's thoughts and feelings this deeply. She didn't do that to Michael. She'd never done it to anyone before. Until now.

'I'd prefer it if they were just "I love you" flowers.'

He shrugged. 'Whatever you want Neela.'

'They're very beautiful Ray, I love them. Could you put them in a vase for me please, and bring them in here so I can see them.' Ray wasn't the buying flowers type, she knew, so she appreciated the gesture for its full worth.

He went into the kitchen to find something to put them in. As he was scrabbling in the cupboard under the sink, he saw, forgotten and pushed to the back, a bottle of tequila. He took it out, and put it on the side before continuing his search for a vase.

Eventually he found one, and put the flowers, which were only a little worse the wear for their abandonment, in it, prodding and moving them until they fell in the same way as they had in the bouquet. He filled the vase with water and one of those silly little sachets of flower food and took it through to her. He placed it in the centre of her window sill.

Her sincerity when she thanked him for them touched him. For every time he lost faith in her, she somehow managed to restore it with a look or a gesture or a word.

He went to sit next to her on the bed. He reached out and stroked her forehead, easing away the pain and stress. Before he quite knew what he was doing, those unfathomable chocolate brown eyes of hers had drawn him in and he was leaning forward and kissing her.

She responded to him tentatively at first, but soon opened up to him. As she felt the pressure of his tongue, trying to gain admittance, she let her head tilt back a little into the pillow and allowed his tongue to slide into her mouth, moaning as it caressed and fought with her own.

But when he moved from his sitting position to something with a bit more intent, she broke away. 'Ray, stop.'

He continued to kiss her, but when she brought a hand up to him, and gently stroked his cheek, he sat up again.

'Don't you want me?'

'I do want you, but I want you forever, not right now. Think about it Ray, every single time we've done this, it has gone wrong, and we've ended up running away from each other. I have to stop running. After our talk this morning, you were right not to stay, and for the same reasons its right for you to go now. I'm sorry. Do you understand?'

He didn't want to say yes, he wanted to be able to be hurt by her rejection, but he understood completely, and more than that, he agreed with her. He'd said the same himself only a matter of hours ago, he couldn't use those words against her now.

'Yes, I do. It kills me, but I do.'

'Do you trust me Ray?'

He thought hard about his answer. He _wanted_ to trust her, but he knew that wasn't the same thing. He trusted her in those moments where he stopped the whirlwind of thoughts that constantly surged through his head and simply looked in her eyes and saw her love for him written there plainly.

So, to answer her question, he deliberately forced every thought and feeling and doubt that he had out of his mind, and just met her gaze. And as he had expected, a steady feeling of trust for her diffused through him.

'Yes, Neela, I trust you. I trust you to do the right thing. I would like the right thing to be to leave Michael and choose me, but it might not be. I don't know. All I do know is that I trust you absolutely to do what is right, be it honouring your marriage vows or not. Whichever. But I do trust you.'

She slowly let his words sink into her mind. The right thing. He had called it very well, she realised. Whatever she did, however this ended, she would do what she thought was the right thing to do. She just needed to work out what the right thing was.

'Thank you. If you trust me, I trust me. With you beside me Ray, I feel like I can do anything.'

'Then please let me stay beside you.'

It was the first time he had actually explicitly asked her to choose him. He hadn't meant to do it, but the words slipped out before he could stop them.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that,' he said quickly.

'Didn't you?' She looked disappointed.

'No.'

'Thank you for helping me back in here Ray. And thank you very much for the flowers, they're stunning.'

He took her words to be a dismissal and stood up. 'That's all right. You get some rest.' He left the room quietly, without a backward glance.

Neela stared blankly at the closed door after he had gone. This latest twist of fate seemed too cruel. They had been so close to being okay. Lying in this bed this morning, she had felt everything, at long last, beginning to fall into place. Ray loved her, he was willing to wait for her. Not forever maybe, but for long enough to give her the time she needed. She had felt the same way as she had slowly, painfully relocated from the bed to the sofa. She had felt that way right up until the moment the phone rang, and she heard Michael's excited, jubilant voice at the other end of the line.

That was the moment it all came crashing down.

But this chance of happiness was only going to slip through her fingers if she let it. Everything she stood to lose if she left Michael – her husband, her security, her relationship with his parents, whom she adored, her parent's respect for her, and most of all, her respect for herself – didn't come anywhere near the pain and depression she would feel if she lost Ray.

She tried to see how her life would be without him in it, because she knew if she chose Michael Ray was gone forever, and she just couldn't imagine him not being there at all. Even when she worked hard to erase him completely, he was still standing there on the sidelines, looking hurt and reproachful, wondering what he had done wrong.

Whereas Michael…? Off to Iraq and back to war. He would be devastated, of course, she didn't doubt that, but broken beyond repair? She genuinely didn't see that as a likely outcome, not in the long run. She didn't have enough power over him to have such a deep and lasting effect on him.

She wasn't tired, but stretched out in bed, sleep began to claim her, and she let it, happy for a short escape from her cycle of thoughts. The last thing she saw before she shut her eyes was the vase of flowers, standing proudly in the window. It made her feel a little better.

When Ray left her, he returned to the kitchen and picked up the bottle of tequila. This was too serious for the moderate escapism that beer offered; it needed something harder. He grabbed a shot glass from the cupboard and went into the lounge to sit down.

For a long time, he stared at the bottle in his hand. Was tequila honestly the answer? It was mid-afternoon, and he was contemplating, seriously contemplating, drinking until the pain went away. He'd seen enough of life to know that people who did that had some pretty bad problems, which were only ever exacerbated by alcohol.

But it was so tempting. After the first few shots, the harsher edges of his agony would be sanded away. After the second few shots, things would seem a little better. And with any luck, after the third few shots, if he was still able to pour them, he might just be able to forget that all this was happening.

He unscrewed the cap of the bottle, but his hand wavered before he poured. What happened if she needed something? If he had to carry her somewhere or go out to the store to buy her something? What if her ankle got worse and he had to take her to hospital? What happened if a major incident occurred? As he was technically still on shift, he would be the very first person to get dragged back in. What use would he be in any one of those situations, if he attacked this bottle now?

But the more he thought about everything, the disapproving yet sympathetic look in Luka's eyes as he had advised him to get the Hell out, the look in Neela's eyes when he had asked her if she was going back to her husband, the troubled look that he knew haunted his own eyes, the more he thought, fuck it. Fuck them all. He slowly began to let a trickle of the spirit flow into the glass. Then the smell of it hit him, and he poured more confidently.

It burned his throat as it went down, and it tasted horrible. Every time he drank tequila, he was always struck afresh by how vile it actually was. But it didn't stop himself pouring another straight away. And then another.

After the fourth or fifth, at about the stage the numbing effect should be starting to kick in, he realised it really wasn't. He felt worse, if that was possible. The dark cloud that had been hovering over him was descending, enveloping him in its lonely depression. There was nothing for it, he poured another tequila.

By the time he estimated that he should be having trouble pouring, his hands were shaking, but he knew it was with grief and shock at the prospect of Gallant's untimely return, nothing to do with the alcohol.

What the Hell was he doing at four in the afternoon trying to drink himself into oblivion? It wasn't helping, it never helped. God, he didn't deserve her, not if he behaved like this. He should be being strong, ready to help her, ready to show her that choosing him was the right decision. How could he pretend this was the right decision? Him, over Gallant, a successful doctor off fighting for his country? How could he compare to that? He was a failed musician, he hadn't been able to show enough dedication to that, or to his job, and ended up not caring enough to be successful at either. A small voice of logic whispered to him that he did care as a doctor, and that he was good at his job, but the alcohol-induced maudlin and self-pity drowned anything that approached rational reasoning.

Suddenly, he felt overwhelmingly, massively, nauseous. He got up, dropping the glass and spilling the next dose of tequila. He dashed to the bathroom and came skidding to a halt by the toilet. Falling to his knees, he just managed to reach it in time as his stomach rebelled and forced its contents back up through his throat. He retched, deeply and painfully, again and again, as his stomach tried to rid itself of its toxic contents.

He felt disgusted with himself. How had this ever seemed like a good idea? As he knelt there, breathless and wiping his mouth, it occurred to him that if Luka had known this was going to be how he spent his afternoon off, he would never have left the order for him to go home.

Neela woke abruptly, with the feeling that something was amiss. She hadn't been deeply asleep, but she had drifted off, and was a little disorientated now. It sounded like there was someone being sick in the bathroom, but there couldn't be. There was only her and Ray here, and why would Ray be throwing up? He hadn't been ill earlier.

There it was again, and this time, now she was listening out for it, it was unmistakable.

'Ray? Ray, are you all right?' There was no answer.

She dragged herself out of bed, and doing her best to ignore the pain, she made her way towards the bathroom. She could hardly put her foot on the floor, so her progress was slow.

'Ray?'

This time, she could just make out a weak 'In here.'

She opened the bathroom door and saw him there, kneeling on the floor, leaning over the toilet, where despite having emptied his stomach, he was still dry heaving painfully. Forgetting her ankle, she rushed over to him, and fell to her knees beside him.

'Oh Ray. Oh Ray, what happened?' The smell of vomit and alcohol was overwhelming, so she didn't really have to ask.

She reached up to the sink and ran him a glass of water. She held it out to him, but when he didn't take it from her, she shuffled alongside him, and brought the glass to his lips, gently tipping it. When he had managed a few sips, she put it down, and wiped away a trickle of water from his chin.

'Why didn't you talk to me?'

'I… wanted to leave you to think. You need some time, and I was trying to give it to you,' he said thickly.

She pulled him into her arms, and he rested his head against her breast, and she began to gently rock him. 'Please, don't you ever do this to me again. I am _always_ here for you, whenever you need me to be.'

When he didn't say anything, she repeated her words. 'Promise me, Ray. Never again.'

Eventually, he nodded. 'I promise.'

When she began to rock him again, murmuring words of platitude quietly, she thanked God that she'd found him. She didn't like to think what might have happened if she hadn't.


	15. Repetition

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this, I have had this chapter ready and waiting for three days while the upload function on this site been messing around. It's appearance now is entirely thanks to butterflyswest, who very kindly told me how to get around the error (massive thank you to you; I hope you consider this chapter ample reward!) Thank you to all for the last round of reviews. I promise the suffering won't continue much longer - there's only three or four chapters after this to go I think, although don't hold me to that; my last story had about three "penultimate" chapters! Updates for the next few weeks might be a bit slow, or in fact, a lot slow, as my finals are approaching and I still haven't written my dissertation, so unless you would like chapters about the role of the farmer in rural communities, please bear with me!!

When Ray got home from work, he threw his bag down just inside the door as he always did and shrugged his jacket off, hanging it up on a peg. The apartment was in darkness, for which he was thankful. Light would aggravate his splitting headache and the quiet blackness suited his mood.

It had been the shift from Hell, starting at some indeterminate point about two and a half days ago, although he wasn't sure exactly when. Not allowing Neela to call him in sick, he had gone in still hungover, with a pounding headache, sore stomach and throat like razorblades from his ridiculous bingeing session, and, feeling rotten, it had continued in a hectic downward spiral since then. It had been a complete contrast to the doughnut eating debacle that he had had to endure the other day; it had been packed full of a relentless stream of traumas without ceasing, and it had stretched the limits of what even he, keen to keep as busy as was humanly possible, could endure. He had a feeling Neela had been there for some of it, but he was too tired to be certain. He was too tired to be certain of anything at the moment.

Except that Gallant would be back tomorrow night. No amount of traumas or tequila could erase that from his mind. With any luck, he might just fall into bed, and sleep through it all, and wake up in a week's time, and Neela would have been whisked away by her husband, and he wouldn't have had to suffer the agony of a goodbye, watching her walk out of that door. He'd managed to stop her once before, but the last weeks had drained him. He didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

He certainly felt exhausted enough to go to ground and sleep through it, although he knew it was the coward's option. And it wasn't a choice anyway; at some point over the last couple of days, he had agreed to take a shift off Abby tomorrow night; she had been working for most of the time alongside Ray, and he hadn't thought it was fair that in her heavily pregnant state she should have to work again so soon. Plus of course, working gave him the perfect excuse to stay away from the apartment, meaning he didn't have to be around Gallant.

He knew how difficult this was for Neela, and he didn't want to make it harder for her. At the end of the day, he loved her enough to just want her to be happy, so he had sworn to himself that he would accept whatever decision she came to without a fight. Just as he had told her, he did trust her to make the right choice, but if it went against him, he didn't want to be around to witness the reunion of husband and wife.

He began to pick his way through to the kitchen with the intention of running himself a glass of water and then crawling into bed. Every inch of him, from his throbbing head to his exhausted feet ached for the comfort of a soft mattress, and both his mind and body craved sleep.

And then, through the darkness, he heard a quiet groan.

Neela.

He'd presumed she was asleep. It was still relatively early, only about eight o'clock, but she'd worked through at least some of that last shift, and he'd thought that anyone who had so much as witnessed it would be dead to the world, given the opportunity.

He fumbled his way in the direction of the noise, pausing when he heard it again. And then he saw her.

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the scene before him in horrified shock. The room was partially lit by an orange glow from the streetlights outside, and it was enough to illuminate his worst nightmare.

She was slumped over the table, her head resting on one outstretched arm and her hair tumbling down around her face. Beside her stood an all too familiar bottle of tequila, now empty. He stepped towards her, concerned; he had only drunk about a third of it the other night before his stomach rebelled; did that mean she had downed the rest? As his eyes travelled around, he saw that this had been very planned, she had really been going to town on this. Next to the bottle was a messy pile of lemon slices, sucked dry and an overturned salt cellar, which for one awful, heart stopping moment, he thought was a bottle of pills.

Oh God, what had she done? But then, he knew; it was exactly what he himself had done, what she had made him promise never to do again. And her doing it somehow seemed so much worse than when he did. He should have been here, dammit. She needed him, and he had been busting his gut at work trying to forget she existed, trying to erase the pain from his own mind, while all the time she had been here alone, suffering a pain that he would walk over white hot coals to prevent her feeling. There had been no-one making him stay at the hospital. He could have gone home. He should have gone home. The bile rose in his throat as he realised this was his fault, entirely his fault. His beautiful, precious Neela had hurt herself because he wasn't there to help her. He had failed her.

Another soft groan escaped from her lips, and it galvanised him into action. He ran the few steps across to her.

'Neela, Neela, can you hear me?' She was worse than he had been, much worse.

Now he was closer to her, he could see that her clothes were wet, and he hoped it was spilt spirits, because if what had been in the bottle had gone in her stomach, this was serious. Then he noticed two tracks of tears running down her pale face, being squeezed out of her closed eyes. Her breathing was almost imperceptible, so he sighed in relief at the tears; they were the only sign he could see that she was conscious, or even alive.

He bent down, and lifted her away from the table to sit up in the chair, with some effort; she had no control over herself, and he had to do all the work.

'Neela?' he asked, shaking her a little. 'Neela, Neela, talk to me.' He gave her face a gentle slap, which elicited another groan from her, but her eyes didn't open, and her head lolled back.

'Come on, stay with me. I'm going to take you to the hospital.' He briefly flirted with the idea of calling an ambulance, but it could take a while, and it seemed like a better plan to take her down to County himself, slip her in quietly, and get one of the nurses he could trust to keep quiet, like Sam, to discreetly pump her stomach. Less fuss, less gossip. In her current state, she didn't need either.

Finally, she showed some signs of life. She heard his voice speaking to her as if he was coming from a long way away, and she tried to process his words. Trying to pull away from him, she frowned and mumbled, 'No Ray, no hospital.'

He picked her up from the chair she was still just about sitting on, but this time she was like a dead weight in his arms. 'Yes Neela, you have to. You need your stomach pumped, I think you've got alcohol poisoning.'

The tears flowed faster. 'Please no Ray, I'm not that bad,' she sobbed. He could feel a warm wetness spreading across his jumper from her tears.

'Neela, for God's sake, I'm worried about you. What I put you through the other night, that's what you're doing to me now, only much worse. You're really ill. Look at me.' Her eyes were sliding closed again. 'Neela, look at me. I have to get you to hospital.'

'No, really.' She made a visible effort to open her eyes, and stared up at him imploringly. 'Ray, I didn't drink as much as it looks, I knocked the bottle over. Please, I just want to go to sleep. I was trying to forget… It didn't work. Maybe if I sleep, I can forget.'

At least he was getting some words out of her now; maybe it wasn't the alcohol that was doing this to her. Maybe it went deeper than that, although he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. If she didn't need her stomach pumped, and was in this state, then a psych consult wouldn't go amiss, which scared him rigid and made his blood run cold.

'Oh Neela. I don't know.' She had put him in a heart wrenching position; if he didn't take her to hospital and something happened to her, he would never ever forgive himself for as long as he lived, but he couldn't say no to the appeal in her eyes. He could never say no to her.

'Please Ray. You look after me. Michael's back tomorrow, I want to spend tonight here with you, not in that bloody hospital.'

He sighed. 'Okay. But you're going to drink some water and go to bed.'

She nodded obediently, and drank from the glass he held out to her. When she had drained one, he refilled it. 'Not enough. More.' Screwing her face up, she downed that one too.

When she was done, he nodded with satisfaction. 'All right.' He bent to pick her up again. It struck him that he seemed to have been doing that a lot lately. He was sure she never used to be so in need of help. He hoped that she now was wasn't his fault, although he suspected it was. She had been strong until he made her stay here that fateful night. And he had kissed her first, it was all him.

Neela settled in his arms, and her mind recommenced the circle of thoughts that had been spinning through her mind, following their repetitive groove, since she had got home. She hadn't drunk all that much tequila, plenty enough, but not as much he thought she had. She'd knocked the bottle over in a fit of rage and spilt the rest. The alcohol had simply fuelled what she was already feeling.

Which was grief, she thought. Her grandmother had died when she was a little girl, and she still vividly remembered everyone wailing and keening over her body, and the empty, blank numbness in her mother's eyes as she tucked her into bed that night. That look was the closest she could come to finding some sort of way to evaluate how she was feeling. She didn't know what she was grieving for exactly, but she felt as if she had been shattered into a million pieces and couldn't be put back together again. She felt as if she had lost something central to her being, but didn't know what it was. Her mind, probably, she mused.

It was a cliché, but she felt like her head was going to explode; that her brain was actually about to reach meltdown. She couldn't cope with this. So much, the happiness of so many people, hung on what she said and did tomorrow night. What if she chose Ray, and Michael went back to Iraq and got killed? She did love him, and she didn't think she would never survive having his death on her conscience. What if she chose Michael though, and it destroyed Ray? She knew the power she had over him, that they had over each other, and by destroying him, she knew it spelt the end for her too.

Who said she was qualified to make these decisions? She hadn't thought she'd been there the day they handed out the ability to break people's hearts, and when she was a self conscious teenager, she had regretted that a little. Now she had suddenly come to realise that she had been right at the front of the queue, and she really wished she hadn't been. She had always faded into the background, stepped sideways whenever anyone looked her way, and now she was right in the centre of something so enormously big, with the limelight solely focussed on her, and it made her want to curl up and die.

Maybe she could actually do that. Maybe if she lay down in her bed, and brought her knees up under her chin, and wrapped her arms around her legs, she could curl up so small that she would just disappear into herself.

As Ray lowered her down carefully on her bed, he noticed from the empty look in her eyes that she had slipped into a state of catatonia again. That meant it wasn't the tequila that was doing this to her. She looked like she had retreated so far into her thoughts that she wasn't coming back.

He sat down opposite her, and held her by the shoulders, shaking her again. 'Neela? Neela, come back to me.'

After saying her name a few more times, trying not to let the panic leak into his voice, he saw a flicker in her eyes again, like a light being turned on, and he watched as she focussed in on him again.

'Neela, where are you going? When your eyes go blank like that, where are you that you won't let me follow you? You need to tell me, else you might not come back.'

'I don't know. I just keep thinking about… everything. I just want to forget tonight. Tomorrow will come soon enough. I just want to have one last night of peace, because from tomorrow onwards, I'm going to feel guilty for the rest of my life.

At her words, he hugged her to him, chilled himself by how cold she felt. He tried to think of something comforting to say, but her words were so inescapably true that there was no way to counteract them. So he just carried on holding her, rocking her like she had rocked him, trying to thaw her frozen soul.

After a very long time, when he had gone from being worried that she had slipped away again, to being certain she had, she surprised him by suddenly speaking. Her voice was barely a whisper, but in the quiet apartment, he heard her without trouble.

'Help me Ray.'

He held her away from him to meet her eyes, and he saw there just enough of a spark to make him think, rightly or wrongly he wasn't sure, that he could save her.

He didn't feel quite so helpless anymore, and he found his tongue again. 'Right then, let's get you into bed.'

Despite his brave words, he was immediately struck by a dilemma. Her clothes were wet and stank of alcohol. There was no way she was capable of getting undressed herself, but tonight, he was with her as a friend, and as a friend, he wasn't sure he was comfortable with taking her clothes off. He had seen, more than seen, her body plenty of times before, but even standing watching her get undressed the other night after the rain didn't seem as wrong as seeing her now would be.

But her inability to help herself left him with no choice. He reached out and got her pajamas at the ready, then turned her around on the bed so he was sitting behind her. That way he couldn't see anything. Slowly, he began to peel her jumper off, lifting up each of her arms in turn, running his hands down her smooth skin to slip off each sleeve. He bit his lip, concentrating very hard on keeping his thoughts away from exactly what he was doing.

Once the jumper was off, he unclasped her bra, trying to forget the other times he had done the same thing, and slipped it off her shoulders. For a second, his fingers accidentally brushed against her breast, instantaneously making his heart race, but she didn't flinch or give any sign that she noticed, so he didn't allow himself to either. Then he put the t-shirt, another of his, over her head and threaded her arms through the holes.

A few more agonising minutes of supreme self-control later, and Ray had her in her pajamas and under the covers. He bent to kiss her forehead and went to leave, when she spoke again.

'Please don't leave me Ray.' Her voice was tiny, scared, like a child afraid of the dark.

So he kicked off his shoes and crawled into the bed alongside her. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he remembered how tired he was. Carefully, he fitted his body against hers, putting a strong arm around her and resting his chin in the crook of her neck like it belonged there.

And like that, they both fell into deep slumbers, thankful that they were too exhausted to dream.


	16. Morning

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Hello, I am back! It seems like forever since I've updated: I had to re-read the story to remind myself of what was going on! Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

Neela woke as the first light of dawn bled grey into the room. The very first thing she became aware of was a pair of strong arms holding her close, as if they weren't ever going to let her go, and she sighed softly in contentment. Looking around groggily, she saw that they were in her room, but when she tried to remember how they got there, there was a fog in her mind that she couldn't seem to penetrate.

She could remember going to work, that was fairly clear, and it had been busy. Her mind hadn't really been all there though, and Luka had packed her off home, even though she had insisted she was fine to stay, although honestly, she knew she wasn't. It had been far too hectic for anyone to have the time to run around after her, checking she wasn't killing anyone.

When she had got home, she came into the apartment, letting her bag fall to the floor in exactly the same careless way that bugged the hell out of her when Ray did it. God, he really must be rubbing off on her. As she passed the phone, she noticed the red light was flashing on the answering machine, which was when things started to go a little hazy.

'_Hello Neela, it's me. Just to say, I'll be back tomorrow. I'll be with you at about six, make a dinner reservation somewhere nice. Oh, and I don't mean to be rude, but try and get Barnett out of the apartment for the night. I want you all to myself. See you soon, love you.'_

She'd never had a panic attack before, but she was pretty sure that was what she had then. However hard she tried to breathe, she couldn't seem to get any air in her lungs, and the room closed in on her threateningly, the four walls coming closer and closer, trapping her, enclosing her in a prison from which she could not see an escape. She heard a distressed voice crying out, 'Ray, Ray,' and she knew it must be her own.

Eventually, it passed, but the feeling of fear lingered, unsettling her. She wished Ray was there; she needed to have him hug her reassuringly, make her feel safe and protected in that way he alway seemed to. But she knew it would be hours until he got back, maybe even days. It had already been over twenty four hours since his shift had started, and it was showing no signs of letting up.

Forcibly calming herself, with shaking hands she flicked through the phone book to find the number of a restaurant, settling on a nice Thai place that she had been to a couple of times before. She made the reservation for seven; she didn't want to be with Michael in the apartment for long. The apartment was her and Ray's little world of their own, a world where real life and other people could not intrude. It was a world in which her husband most definitely did not belong.

After she had done that, she played the message over a few times to torture herself. He was her husband. She should be delighted that he was coming back from that hellhole safe and well, and in one piece. Well, she was delighted that he was safe and well, and in one piece. But not that he was coming back. She would give anything to put off what was going to happen the next day.

It meant that she had to decide. She still didn't know what she was going to do. She loved Ray with a passion and an intensity that she didn't think she was capable of and scared the living daylights out of her. The thought of living without him terrified her, but she had made a commitment to Michael. A lifelong commitment, and she had been brought up to value things like that beyond all else. The trouble was, life had taught her what her parents had not; sometimes, just sometimes, thinking with your heart instead of your head was okay. She just wasn't sure yet if this was one of those times.

She remembered trying to ease the confusion in her mind with tequila. She had hidden it from Ray after his binge, but as her fingers fumbled into the back of a cupboard and closed around the cool glass, she was thankful she hadn't thrown it away. She had realised after only a few glasses that it hadn't been a smart move. It was as if Ray and Michael were in the room with her, their expressions distorted in her troubled thoughts into twisted caricatures of their normal selves, hatred and contempt in their eyes.

'_What are you playing at Neela? I'm risking my life every day, each dawn bringing a new horror, and you're happily at home screwing Doctor Rock.'_

'_What are you playing at Neela? You're married to another man and you're stringing me along like a fool and playing games with my heart.'_

'No,' she screamed at them, shaking her head wildly against their mockery. 'No, it's not like that. I don't mean it, I…'

'_You told me you loved me.'_

'_You told me you loved me.'_

Their voices were accusatory, bitter, angry, and she felt tears burning at her eyes. She put her hands over her ears and screwed her eyes tightly closed. 'Go away, please. Leave me alone.'

The fog in her mind was deeper then. She didn't remember Ray coming home, but she had a vague recollection of him standing in the doorway of her room and not wanting him to go.

And now she was waking up next to him so obviously he hadn't. This time was different though. She was in her pajamas, and a look at Ray told her he was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt that he had worn to work, so the night hadn't ended like it so often had between them. She was reassured by that. She knew, of course, that she was so much more to him than one of his usual flings; he had told her so, and every look those deep hazel eyes gave her told her so with even more strength than words, but if she was going to give up her marriage for him, she had to be sure, _so _sure. And now she was a little more.

She turned in his arms and leaned towards him to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Slowly, his eyes opened.

'Morning,' she smiled at him.

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, gently tracing a line on her face with a single finger. 'Morning you. How are you feeling today?' There was concern written all over his face, a far cry from the image that her mind had concocted the previous night.

'I feel better now. Thank you for looking after me Ray.'

'That's okay, it's... What happened last night, Neela? You scared me, I mean really badly scared me. I thought… I thought you were going crazy.'

'I think maybe I was a bit.'

'Would it help to talk about it?'

She shook her head. 'No, I just want to forget about it. I'm here with you, that's the only thing that I care about right now.'

He was reluctant to drop the matter. There had been something very wrong with her last night, something that was far beyond his capability to help her with. But that wasn't the only thing that was hanging over them.

'But tonight, Neela…'

'Please don't Ray.' Her eyes took on a pleading, imploring look that he was never able to refuse. 'I don't want to think about that now.'

'You've got to think about it. Believe me when I say I wish it wasn't the case, but we've run out of time. In twelve hours…' He stopped when he saw the tears in her eyes.

'I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you.' He was petrified of driving her back into the state she had been when he found her at the table.

'I know you didn't. Just please, hold me.'

He obliged, lying back down beside her and pulling her into his arms. She snuggled closer to him.

'I wish we could stay like this forever.' His tone was wistful, but he was old and jaded enough to know that not all wishes came true, however much you prayed.

Should she tell him? She could tell him what she'd decided in those moments as she'd woken up this morning right now, and see the smile light up his face. She could say the words he wanted to hear and see those eyes that captivated her so much dance with happiness. But… what if something happened? What if she couldn't find the nerve to tell Michael? Hurting Ray was bad enough, but what she would do to him if she told him, then changed her mind: no, she couldn't do that.

Instead, she offered him a crumb of hope, afraid to make it more in case she didn't have the courage to deliver. 'We might, Ray.'

His eyes were serious. 'Don't make promises you can't keep Neela.'

'I'm not making any promises. I'm just… keeping you informed.' She smiled up at him cheekily, trying to lighten the mood, and eventually his face cracked and he returned her grin.

'Do you want to talk about something else?'

She snaked an arm around his neck, her fingers running through his hair and her nails lightly grazing his scalp, making him shudder slightly. 'I don't want to talk at all.'

She reached up, and captured his bottom lip playfully between her teeth, a giggle escaping from deep in her throat.

'Oh, like that is it?' He raised an eyebrow at her before suddenly grabbing her wrists and pinning her below him, kissing her ferociously. He smiled against her lips as he heard her moan and knew he had the upper hand.

Despite her struggling, Ray wouldn't let go of her wrists, so Neela contented herself with lying back and enjoying his attentions, letting his fiery touch burn her skin. The feel of him hard against her thigh through their clothes was making her heart race and the blood pumped heavily through her veins in excitement. She pressed her hips towards him invitingly.

Fully aware of what his teasing was doing to her, he moved his lips away from hers, trailing a line of kisses along her jawline before edging slowing down her neck to her collarbone. Moving slightly so he was holding both her wrists in one hand, he slid the other one up under her t-shirt, feeling her suck her stomach in at his touch. One by one, he counted her ribs as he ran his hand painfully slowly up until he was cupping her breast. As he felt her nipple instantly harden against his palm he drew in a sharp breath.

He was kissing her collarbone, and was about to gently nip at it, as he usually did, liking to see his mark on her skin, when suddenly a thought struck him. She couldn't go back to her husband with the evidence of their affair plainly visible on her body. It would create too many problems, too many explanations. And yet again, it hit home to him; she wasn't his to mark. She was another man's wife. If he was thinking positively, maybe one day that would change, but right now, it hadn't. He pulled away from her, his hand withdrawing from under her clothes.

'Ray?' She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes, her chest still rising and falling visibly, her breath quickened from their passion.

He rolled away from her, and sat up, putting his head in his hands and willing his breathing to slow, his pulse to stop racing.

'Ray?' she asked again.

He was silent a little longer, before he tore his head from his hands and gazed at her deeply. 'I don't think I can do this Neela. If this is goodbye sex, then I just… I can't. I don't want something to remember you by. Don't you see, if you don't pick me, then I don't _want_ to remember you. I will want to forget you ever existed, because if I have to live with these memories alone, I will go mad. So if this is a one last time thing, then please Neela, I'm begging you, tell me now and I can get out of here with what little dignity and soul I have left.'

'This isn't goodbye sex.' Her voice was quiet but steady.

'Don't just say what you think I want to hear. We're in too deep for that now.'

'I'm not. For one thing, I thought we'd moved beyond sex by now. I thought we decided this was making love.'

'You can't wriggle out of this with a debate on semantics Neela. If you're not ready to give a final answer yet, or haven't made up your mind, or if you want to tell Michael first, then that's fine, I understand. But if you know in your head, your heart, whichever one you trusted to make this decision, that come tonight, it will be your husband in this bed next to you, and not me, then please don't let me do this now.' His speech half killed him. He could actually feel, he was sure, a knife in his heart, twisting, stabbing, causing a pain beyond description.

'Like I said Ray,' she reached out to him, and took his hand in hers, squeezing it, 'this isn't goodbye sex. I promise you that.'

He searched her eyes for anything more that might be lurking there, but was met with an open honesty. He allowed her to pull him back down to her.

'Then I'm not out of the running quite yet?' There was a smile on his face, and Neela knew the serious moment was over. She let out a little sigh of relief as she tilted her head back into the pillow, allowing herself to be kissed.

It wasn't long before, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms wrapped around him, hanging on like a drowning man holds a lifebelt, she exploded in ecstasy beneath him, riding waves of pleasure and emotion, and all thought of her husband, just for a while, banished.


	17. Waiting

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Again, thank you so much for the reviews. I love writing this story, I don't want it to end, but, alas, I think the end is now nigh – not long to go at all. It's just occurred to me that maybe this could be seen as an alternative season finale; timescale might not quite add up, but roll with it. If you're following another of my stories, The End, then just to reassure you, I am working on the next chapter but I'm having trouble finishing it; I know where I'm going with it, but there's a great big hole in the middle that I'm trying to fill.

Ray tapped his fingers on the admit desk absently, while repeatedly clicking a pen. With Abby looking on, every few minutes he put the pen down, took half a dozen aimless paces before turning on his heel and returning to his original spot. She was flicking through the pile of charts she intended to pass on to Jane that she had accumulated throughout her shift, but hadn't managed to street. Ray's behaviour was driving her up the wall. And besides, everyone knew Gallant was back this evening, you only had to look at Ray to see how much it bothered him. His thoughts on the matter were written all over his face.

'Ray?'

She wasn't entirely sure at first whether or not he heard her, but the clicking of the pen increased in intensity when she spoke, and she came to the conclusion that he was just ignoring her.

'Ray.'

Still nothing.

She reached over and grabbed the pen out of his hand. He gave her an affronted look but stopped short of having a go at her, although if anyone else had tried to drag him out of his mood, he would have bitten their head off. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd been watching her watch him for the last few minutes, and he could see the concern on her face, so he let her get away with it.

'I'm ignoring you on purpose you know. You're off in a minute. I know how long you've been here, you're dying to get out of the door. If I just carry on not looking at you, you'll get bored, go home, and I'll win.'

'Sure.'

She left it at that, knowing that he wouldn't win. She could see how agitated he was and it would take him no time at all to crack.

The minutes ticked by and Abby continued to look at the charts. Girl in curtain three, foreign body in her ear; twenty eight year old male victim of an MVA with suspected fractured pelvis waiting for a slot up in radiology; forty three year old female brought in suffering from a diabetic hypo, recovering now.

'Abby?'

'Ike's?' she replied quickly, without looking up.

He nodded. 'Thank you.'

They slipped into a booth, and as Ray put the mugs down on the table, Abby saw the bitten nails. Looking up at him, she saw the lines of anxiety on his face, dark shadows under haunted eyes.

'Ray, you need to be more careful. Anyone with eyes in their head can see what's eating you. You've got a whole shift to get through; if you carry on like that then you'll be busted.'

'Maybe I want to be,' he snapped. 'Maybe I want the whole world to know. Maybe I don't want this to be a secret anymore.' For a moment, just a flash, Ray let a little of the emotion that was piling up inside him bleed out. Before he got carried away, he stopped himself, clenching his fists and slamming his jaw closed, preventing himself from saying any more.

Abby gave him a sympathetic look. 'Doing it tough?' she asked him.

'You have no idea,' he said through gritted teeth, trying to smile, but failing miserably.

'You didn't take Luka's advice then?'

The sadness in his eyes when he looked up at her tore at her heart. If he had looked troubled last time they had sat here and had this discussion, then he looked ten times worse now. Poor Ray. Poor both of them. And Gallant. She reached across the table and took his hand.

'I tried Abby. I tried so hard. But,' he shrugged, 'I love her. I love her so much I don't know what to do with myself. I know I'm going to get hurt; I'm already hurt. He's home tonight, and I… I don't know what she's going to do.'

Abby didn't know what to say. She didn't know what Neela was going to do either. She knew what Neela wanted to do, but that was a different matter.

'She loves you Ray.'

'I don't think it's enough Abby, not for her. She's married. If she didn't want him, she wouldn't have married him in the first place.'

'If she didn't want _you_, she wouldn't have stayed with you.'

He met her eyes, looking at her sharply. He hadn't thought about it that way. 'Let's just say I don't want to get my hopes up.'

'Ray, I don't know what you want me to say. I can't reassure you, because I don't know what she's thinking. I don't think she knows what she's thinking.'

'I don't want reassurance Abby. I just want this all to be over. It's ten o'clock. He gets home at six. That's eight hours, Abby, eight hours that I have got to wait and pretend nothing is wrong. Eight hours of Hell. And then, well, it just gets worse. I'm pulling a double; I don't care who I have to wrestle the next shift off, but I'm sure I'll find a willing volunteer. Anything so that I don't have to go back to that apartment. And all through the night, I'll be sitting in that damn hospital, imagining them together. Imagining them stretched out in a bed that only a few hours ago I was in with her, her legs wrapped around his waist and not mine. Imagining him making her moan like I do. Imagining him making her moan more.' His expression was one of pure, unadulterated anguish.

Abby pulled a face.

'I'm sorry, I know you don't want to hear that.'

'You're right. I'm here for you Ray, but she's my friend, and I don't need details like that.'

They sat in silence for a while, all out of words. Ray felt like there wasn't really anything more to say. Although he was grateful to her, talking to Abby hadn't helped ease the pain at all. In fact, he thought that putting it into words might even have made it worse.

He stood up. 'I'd better get back Abby. Thanks for the coffee.'

'Ray, it's going to be a long shift. If you need someone, call me, or talk to Luka. I don't like leaving you like this.'

'I'll be fine.' He made to go, but she grabbed his sleeve. 'Ray. If you're going to get through this shift without going crazy or letting on to the entire hospital what you two have been up to, then you're going to need help. You can trust Luka, Ray.'

She looked at him, her brown eyes wide in mute appeal, but he tugged his sleeve from her hand. He gave her a small, tight smile, and was gone.

He stalked back to the hospital, hands buried deep in his pockets. Just as he'd said to Abby, eight hours and then the Hell really begins. It wasn't so much jealously that was eating away at him; it went far deeper than that. Some instinct set deep inside him told him that Neela was the one. That however hard or however long he searched, he would never find another woman who filled his heart, completed his soul like she did. And right now, he was on the cusp – by this time tomorrow, he would either have realised his dreams, or had them shattered beyond repair.

As he walked in the doors, Pratt called out to him.

'Ray, late again.'

'Actually, man, check out the stethoscope.' He took off his coat to reveal his lab coat underneath, and a stethoscope wound around his neck. 'Some of us were so early, we had time to go out for coffee.'

'Early huh? Wonders will never cease.' He handed him a pile of charts. 'Come on, get to work.'

It was a few hours later that Ray managed to catch up with Luka. He had no intention of pouring his heart out as Abby had suggested, but he did need some information. 'Doctor Kovac, I was wondering who's on the next shift.'

Luka frowned in confusion. 'Pratt again, he's on a double, Morris and Weaver.'

'Okay, thanks.' Ray thought quickly. Pratt would swap with him, no problem. He would be keen to get out of a double shift, and no doubt he would think that leaving the apartment to Gallant and Neela would be an excellent idea, but Ray didn't think he could handle the guy's jubilation at his friend's safe return. Asking to swap shifts would bring the matter up, and it was something he really didn't want to discuss. Morris was no good. He'd say yes, of course, but would ask far too many questions. That left Weaver.

'Umm, could you do me a favour?'

Luka looked back at him. 'Of course.'

'Could you ring Weaver for me to ask if she will give me her shift? I can't ask Pratt or Morris and Weaver probably wouldn't even answer the phone to me.'

The older doctor nodded, knowing what was happening that evening, and understanding why Ray didn't want to go home. And Kerry would appreciate the extra time with Henry, he was sure.

Luka clapped him on the shoulder. 'Don't worry about it. I'll sort it. But if you want somewhere to go but have had enough for work, I can give you a key to Abby's place if you want.'

His quiet tone helped calm Ray a little. The offer of Abby's apartment was too ironic though. It had been that offer made to Neela that had started all this. He hoped to God Luka's offer didn't mark the end of it.

After Ray left for work, Neela stayed in bed for a long time, trying to preserve the moment. The morning's lovemaking had left her exhausted; she wasn't sure she had the energy to drag herself out of bed and into the shower anyway.

She had enjoyed those last moments with Ray. She didn't anticipate that they would be the last ever, but from tonight on, things would be different. Not tainted, but there would be no escaping, as there was now, reality. This evening, she was going to have to look her husband in the eye and tell him the truth. Whatever she felt about Ray, there would be a different set of goalposts now. She hoped they could make things work.

After trying, and failing, to go back to sleep for a while, Neela got up and had a shower. As soon as she was dressed, she looked around for something to do. She couldn't just sit there all day and not go crazy. She started by picking up a medical journal, but she found herself flicking through it, staring blankly at random pages. She returned it to the pile that she and Ray kept in the corner, inevitably used more by her than Ray. The same happened to her next choice of reading material, a novel, although that one met a worse fate than the journal. With a cry of frustration, she hurled it at the wall.

Reading was no good. She needed to do something more active. Looking around, she was reminded that she hadn't done a lot of housework lately. Other things to do with her spare time. Sighing, she went to the kitchen to turf out some cleaning products: anything to while away the hours before Michael's arrival.

Ten o'clock and the bathroom was spotless. Another hour, and the piles of dirty dishes in the kitchen had been magicked away, the empty beer bottles taken to the trash, the surfaces sparkling.

She was about to take the vacuum to the lounge when the phone rang.

'Hello?'

'Hey Neela, it's me.' "Me" was Abby.

'Oh hi, how are you?' Then something occurred to her. 'I thought you were working today.'

'I was meant to be. Ray took my shift for me, and I can't say I'm not grateful; I feel like a whale. The next four weeks can't go quickly enough.'

Neela wasn't really listening to her friend's complaints; she didn't get beyond the first few words. 'Ray took your shift for you? He wanted to work?'

Abby could hear the hurt in her voice. 'I think he wanted to give you some time.'

'Oh.'

There was a painfully long silence, which in the end Abby felt compelled to fill. 'Neela, I was just calling to see if you were all right, to see if you needed anything, someone to talk to or whatever.'

'No, I just need for the next few hours to go more quickly. I can't stand the waiting.' Exactly like Ray, Abby thought. 'I just want for it to be over.'

'Do you want me to come over? Or you could come here? I can fill those hours with pregnancy moans, no problem.' She tried to keep her voice upbeat, but they both knew what she was skirting around, and the jollity seemed misplaced.

She appreciated the offer, but if she couldn't be with Ray, she would rather be alone. 'No, thank you, but its fine. I'm doing some cleaning now, it's helping to pass the time a bit.'

'Neela…'

'No, Abby. Don't ask me.'

'I'm worried about Ray honey. He's hurting now, if things tonight go… well, you know, I don't know how he'll manage.'

'Don't guilt trip me –'

'I'm not guilt tripping you.'

'Yes you are,' she bit back. 'And if you're not, it feels like you are. Don't you think this is hard enough for me? Don't you think I'm torturing myself enough as it is? Please Abby, I don't need this from you.' Her voice cracked with emotion, too many pent up feelings trying to escape. She knew it wasn't Abby's fault; she couldn't lay it at anyone's door but her own, but she needed someone to let it out at a bit.

'Okay, I'm sorry. Honestly, I'm not trying to make things harder for you, I'm just worried about you, and Ray, and Gallant. You're all my friends. I don't like this.'

Neela knew Abby was only looking out for her, but she couldn't handle this. 'Look, I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow.'

She hung up abruptly, leaving Abby on the end of a dead line.

Neela tried to carry on with the cleaning, but tears were beginning to build up in her eyes and obscure her vision. Talking to Abby had just brought reality crashing down a bit more. She looked at the clock. Half past twelve. Five and a half hours. She put her head in her hands, and cried hot, desperate tears of desolation.


	18. Dinner

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Well, here we go. This is going to be the one but penultimate chapter of this story (and if you read 'Home', you will know to take that statement with a pinch of salt, but I think in this case, it is likely to be true). I would absolutely love to make it to a hundred reviews for this story before the end; it's very achievable so please get reviewing! And on the subject of reviews, I am withholding further updates of Against the Odds until I get more than two reviews for the last chapter – come on folks, you're usually so fantastic at reviewing, so I know you can do better than that!

It was ten to six. Neela didn't know where the afternoon had gone. After she'd cried, she'd slept. After she'd slept, she'd finished the cleaning mission she had earlier embarked on, and by then it had been just about late enough to conceivably allow her to start getting ready for dinner tonight.

She'd resolved to go to dinner with Michael before she told him anything. It wouldn't be right to bring it up in the restaurant either she thought, but maybe on the way home. Almost definitely on the way home, because she didn't want him in the apartment, in hers and Ray's haven, again. The brief time they would have to spend in it before dinner would be bad enough.

She'd spent over an hour getting ready, shaving her legs, painting her nails, painstakingly blow drying her hair into thick, face framing curls. If anyone had been watching her, she would come across as any wife delighted to be getting her new husband home after a long absence. As she slipped on matching underwear; barely there scraps of black lace, then a simple but stunning black dress that she knew looked fantastic on her, she looked even more like that excited wife.

Except the effort wasn't for her husband. As she slid up the zipper on the dress, it wasn't her husband's hands she imagined sliding it back down again. As she sprayed perfume onto her pulse points, it wasn't thoughts of her husband that made her pulse race. She tried not to feel ashamed of her actions, knowing that love rather than any less noble emotion was behind them, but she couldn't help that nasty, dark feeling clutching at her insides. No matter what way she looked at it, loving Ray still seemed wrong, but wrong or not, if she was honest with herself, she knew she was completely and inescapably in love, and now she just had to find the courage to be honest with Michael as well.

There was a knock on the door. The time had come. No more waiting, no more deliberations. Taking a deep breath, Neela opened it with slightly trembling hands.

Instantly, before she had the chance to speak, she was swept off her feet in a bone crushing hug, the air forced from her lungs and tears squeezed from her eyes. 'Neela, oh Neela, it's _so _good to see you.' His voice was an intense whisper, breaking with emotion.

Her shame and guilt burned in her chest at the sight of him. He had only been gone a matter of months, but he looked older, and his troubled eyes looked as if they had seen things that no man would wish to see. Could she really find it within herself to add to the unspeakable pain and suffering already there?

'Michael, welcome back.' Back, not home, she noticed herself saying. This wasn't his home. It was hers though.

He held her away from his long enough to look down at her, into her eyes. 'I've missed you so much. I… God, it's good to be back.' He pulled her to him again, this time lowering his head to meet her in a kiss.

In the seconds before his lips touched hers, Neela thought frantically if there was some way she could escape his kiss. There wasn't. He kissed her softly at first, then deepening it, pressing himself against her and his tongue slipped into her open mouth. For a moment, all thought was suspended. Then he groaned, just a little, and Neela was brought back to reality.

He didn't make her feel like Ray did; no one could do that. But he did make her feel… good. He was her husband, and in those seconds, she was suddenly not sorry that she'd married him. She hadn't realised just how much she'd missed him, and how relieved she was that he was safe again. Over the last weeks, she'd been so wrapped up in Ray that she had forgotten her feelings for Michael. They weren't as strong as her feelings for Ray, but they were there, and there were enough of them to make for a successful marriage, she was sure. Maybe this decision wasn't quite as easy as she had thought.

She eased herself gently out of his arms, trying not to make her withdrawal too obvious or hurtful. She needed time to think.

'Do you want to have a shower and freshen up before we go out? We've got enough time before we have to leave and after all that travelling…'

'Yes, thank you, a shower would be great.' He looked at her with a seductive grin. 'I'd invite you to join me but you look far too good to spoil.'

She made herself laugh lightly though her heart was heavy. 'You know where the bathroom is. I'll bring you through a fresh towel in a minute.'

As soon as she heard the bathroom door shut, Neela retreated to her room. As she flung herself on her bed, she dug her nails into her palms to prevent the tears that were pricking at her eyes again. She couldn't cry. Michael would notice and wonder what was wrong; and it would take ages to repair her make-up. As she lay there, trying not to mess up her hair, she breathed deeply to help push back the tears, and with every inhaled breath, the scent of Ray filled her nostrils. Was it really only this morning that Ray had lain here with her? Was it really only this morning that he had made love to her in a way she had never experienced before? Every time they were together surpassed the last. And when she lay there in his arms, she felt complete, whole.

Her eyes flickered over to her shelf of photos in the corner. She remembered the night she had moved her wedding photo there. That was when she had begun to come to terms with the failure of her marriage, and the realisation had dawned that although she was still married in name, Ray was her future, her soul mate, and Michael was part of the past. A cherished part, but in the past nonetheless. Now she simply wasn't so sure. In the last five minutes, everything seemed to have been turned upside down, she was certain of nothing anymore.

She heard the creaking of the pipes cease and the sounds of running water coming from the bathroom stopped. Remembering her promise of a towel, she rifled through her chest of drawers and hurried to the bathroom. She paused at the door. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course,' he called back. 'Have you got that towel?'

'Yep.' As she entered the room, he stepped out of the shower and took the towel from her.

She lowered the lid of the toilet and sat on it, watching and listening as Michael towelled himself dry and shaved, pinching Ray's shaving foam, all the while relating tales and anecdotes of his lighter moments in Iraq, his days in hospital recovering after the bombing. He showed her the wound, and she agreed with him that it was healing well, although he said it was still sore and she had noticed that he walked with a slight limp.

Was this comfortable conversation the intimacy of marriage, or was it staying up all night on the sofa watching horror movies that you hated just to spend time with a person? Was it both?

It wasn't long before they were ready to leave. He held her coat for her to put on, and offered her his arm. He looked so content, she thought.

'So, where is it that we're going tonight? Or is it a surprise?'

'No, no surprise,' she smiled up at him. 'It's a Thai place, called Tiandi. I've been there before, it's nice.' She'd been there with Ray. They couldn't be bothered to cook but felt they'd had takeout one too many times already that week, so he had told her to put on her gladrags and he'd taken her out for dinner. Now she had no idea what had made her book here for a meal with her husband.

'Is it far?' he asked.

'Only a few blocks. We can get a cab if you want?'

He shook his head. 'No, if it's not too cold for you, I'd like to walk. It's good to stretch my legs properly after all the travelling.'

When they reached the restaurant, a diligent Maitre D' took their coats and ushered them to their table. As she looked around, Neela remembered too late that one of Ray's friends worked here. And of course, it was just her luck that he would be waiting on them tonight.

'Doctor Neela!' It was a name the band had always used for her, but it seemed to have stuck with most of Ray's friends.

'Cal, nice to see you again. How are you?'

'Oh, you know how it is. Surviving. Haven't seen a lot of you and Ray recently though. Where've you been hiding?'

Neela looked briefly at Michael, who didn't look at all impressed. She'd met Cal at a couple of parties, and he had appeared in the apartment after a gig one time. Plus here, of course.

'We've been working a lot lately.' She kicked herself at referring to herself and Ray as "we". A glower passed over Michael's face that looked out of place on his normally easy going countenance.

'Work? Pathetic excuse,' Cal scoffed good-naturedly. 'So, who's this then? Do I get an introduction?'

Neela looked awkwardly between the two. There was no escape from this. 'Umm, yes, this is Michael. Michael, this is Cal, he's a friend of Ray's.'

She didn't know Cal well enough for him to recognise her "don't go there" glare, but she still tried it. It didn't work though. 'And who's Michael then?' His face was curious, uncalculating. He had no idea what he was letting loose.

'Michael's my husband.'

'Your husband? But…' He was incredulous, absolutely disbelieving, there was no other word for it. He was about to open his mouth to say more, but she saw something click behind his eyes, and understanding spread over his face.

'Oh, right. Well, pleased to meet you Michael. Now, are you ready to order?'

'Can you give us a minute please?'

When Cal was gone, Michael looked at her for a long time without saying anything. She felt compelled to talk, but was careful to keep her tone light, and not make excuses or sound as if she was hiding something.

'I'm sorry about Cal; he's like all of Ray's friends, a bit like an overenthusiastic Labrador.'

'I see.' He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 'He didn't seem to know you were married.' There was an unspoken question that hung in the air between them.

'Oh, I haven't seen him for a while. Since the band left for California, Ray's friends haven't been about as much thank goodness.' She spoke offhandedly, hoping it was enough to put him off the scent. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it her way, not forced into it by an accidental comment from one of Ray's friends.

Cal came back, and took their orders. When the food came, Michael relaxed a bit, and the awkward moment seemed to have passed. At any rate, he didn't say anything more. Instead, he started on a new subject, beginning innocuously.

'So, your ankle seems better?'

'Oh, yes, it is thank you. A few days with it stuck in the air put it right.'

'That's good.' His smile seemed genuine, at least. Then came the barb. 'I'm going to be able to stay in Chicago for at least a month, hopefully longer. We'll have plenty of time to start looking for a place of our own. You're off work tomorrow, aren't you? We can start then.' There was almost a challenge in his eyes. As if he was testing her. Go on, his eyes were saying. Go on, if your heart is really in this marriage, prove it to me.

Then Neela saw it, her whole life stretching ahead of her. Coming home after a long hard shift to Michael and not Ray. Or worse, coming home to an empty, cold apartment while Michael was off on yet another tour of duty. Moving from place to place as the Army told them to. Never settling. Never finding friends like she had here in Chicago; never finding love like she had here in Chicago. And never, never quite being able to erase Michael's suspicions that this evening would raise.

The thought of Ray not being in that future made her chest tighten and the walls close in again. She loved him. She loved him in the sort of way that made her incapable of living without him. She didn't _want_ to live without him. Struggling for control over the impending panic attack, she dropped her fork, clattering it against the edge of the plate, and pushed her chair back. Although her gaze was fixed on Michael, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cal look over at them.

'Neela?' His voice was very level, as if he knew. 'Neela, why don't you want to look for a new apartment?'

All thought of doing this properly, gently, in the right place, was gone. Gasping for short, panicked breaths, she tugged at her wedding ring, but it wouldn't come off. 'I'm sorry Michael. I'm so, so sorry. I can't do this anymore. This… I never meant for things to end up like this.' She stood up unsteadily. For a moment, she looked like she was going to fall, and Michael half rose from his seat, Cal taking a step closer.

'Neela, what are you trying to say?'

Already, she was backing towards the exit, tears streaming down her face. The whole restaurant was watching the soap opera playing out before them, but she had no idea. 'I'm sorry Michael. I don't want to be an army wife. I don't want to be your wife.'

Then she turned and ran.


	19. Coming Clean

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Just a warning; I have a thing about cliffhangers in the latter stages of my stories, so be prepared! I'd like to say, thank you so much for all the reviews for the last chapter, I can't believe I've actually reached a hundred reviews; words can't describe how much it means to me that you take the time to read this and I love hearing your thoughts on it.

Michael sat in paralysed shock, unable to do anything but watch her go. Then he turned to the waiter that she had known, Cal, and beckoned him over. 'You, Cal, was it? What do you know?' He didn't sound angry, but his voice was urgent.

Cal stepped over to the table with a level of trepidation, conscious that his boss was watching him. He didn't particularly want to be drawn into either a marital dispute (or dissolve, as it looked to him) or a scene that had disrupted the entire restaurant.

'Hey, I'm sorry man. Like I said, I haven't seen them for a while, months. I don't know anything about anything.'

He tried to retreat, but he knew there wasn't a chance he was going to get away with it that easily. Quickly weighing things up, he decided he didn't fancy his chances if this got nasty. This guy who Doctor Neela claimed to be her husband was a big bloke.

'All right, so you don't _know_ anything. What do you _think_?'

'Like I said, I haven't seen…' He shifted his weight from foot to foot, wishing fervently he had never opened his mouth.

Michael had been working hard to control his temper, but he couldn't help himself. His bloody marriage was at stake, and some pot-smoking waiter who had turned his life upside down wouldn't even give him a straight answer. He slammed his fist down on the table suddenly and violently, making a lady on the table behind jump. 'Dammit man, give me something. In case you hadn't noticed, my wife, who you seem to know better than I do, has just told me she wants a divorce.'

Cal didn't like to say that perhaps if this guy really cared about his marriage, he should be chasing his wife as she ran away from him down a freezing, snowy street without a coat, not giving a serve to the poor schmuck who happened to have developed a case of foot in mouth disease at just the wrong moment.

It was just, well, Ray and Neela, they simply came across as a couple. When Ray came out with one of his inappropriate comments she would elbow him in the ribs in the half annoyed, half amused, manner of any girlfriend, and you could always work out where one of them was in a room by following the gaze of the other.

He put his hands up in a defensive gesture, and his tone was candid. 'Look, I don't know anything. I've only met Neela a few times. I just always assumed her and Ray were together. That's only assumed, mind you. I've never seen them do anything that would indicate they're together.'

'And what would make you assume that?'

'They live together; they're obviously very close friends. Maybe I was making a jump too far.' He tried to backtrack.

'Yes, maybe you were.' There was a pause. 'Could I have the bill please?' Cal looked down at the half eaten food on the table. A ruined meal; a ruined marriage. It seemed very sad to him. 'And our coats.'

'Of course.' Avoiding the other man's eyes, not wanting to witness the pain that resided there, he ducked away and went to fetch what he had asked for.

As soon as Neela got outside and she could feel the cold, fresh air begin to fill her lungs, the panic started to recede. To her relief, she found she could see and breathe properly again. Then the enormity of what she had just done hit her with all the force of a double decker bus. She had ended her marriage, ended it in just the way she had been determined not to. Left Michael sitting in the middle of a full restaurant, surrounded by the ruined shards of their marriage, of their lives.

Should she go back in? No, she couldn't do that. At some point, they were going to have to talk properly about the whys and wherefores, arrangements, legalities, but not tonight. Right now, there was only one person she wanted to be with, one thing she wanted to say.

She hailed a passing cab, jumping in. 'County General Hospital please.'

Throughout the entire journey, Neela thought of Ray. She allowed herself the indulgence of pushing Michael to the back of her mind, just for a while. She imagined the look on Ray's face when she appeared at the hospital. God, she hoped things went well. Would he believe her that it was over with Michael? Would he accept her after all she had put him through? She knew she didn't deserve for this to work out, but she would be eternally grateful if it did. When the realisation hit her in the restaurant that she really, truly loved Ray, she knew that this _had _to work out. The prospect of not having him in her life was one she simply couldn't contemplate and she hoped she wouldn't have to.

Just then, her cell rang. Caller ID said it was Luka. Luka? She didn't even realise she had his number.

'Luka? Is everything all right?'

'Neela, yes, it's fine. I'm sorry to disturb you; I know Michael's back tonight, but I thought you'd want to know, Abby's gone into labour, we're at County now.'

'Oh, really? Wow. Is she all right, she's still got four weeks to go, hasn't she? I'm on the way over there at the moment. Call me as soon as you're ready for visitors.'

Luka frowned. 'She's doing okay. What do you mean, you're on your way to the hospital?'

'Long story Luka. Good luck, give Abby a hug from me, and I'll see you later.'

When Luka ended the call, he turned back to Abby. Her contractions were still over ten minutes apart, and she was lying back on the bed, savouring the short rest. 'What did she say? How are things going with Michael?'

'She's on her way here. She wishes us luck.'

A huge smile spread across Abby's face, lighting her tired features, and Luka sensed it wasn't just for the fact that her friend was on her way over. 'You know what that means, don't you?'

'Umm…' He didn't, he had to confess.

'It means she's chosen Ray, Luka. It means she's finally been honest with herself and told Michael how she's feeling. Oh, thank God. Oh, that's such good news.'

'Well,' he squeezed her hand and returned her smile lovingly, 'let's hope for some more good news before too long, hey?'

'At any rate, It solves the problem of who to ask to be godparents, doesn't it?'

Neela got out of the cab in the ambulance bay. She paused outside the doors, and looked up at the sky. If she thought it would do any good, she'd say a prayer. The air had warmed up and the snow was considering turning to rain, thick clouds obscuring any stars that might be up there somewhere. Shame, she could have done with a glimpse of a shooting star to wish on.

When she walked into the admit area, she felt as if she was watching herself and the scene unfolding before her. Ray was standing right there, wiping a name off the board. He looked tired, drawn, as if his mind was elsewhere.

'Ray…'

At the sound of her voice, his head snapped around towards her, taking in the bedraggled hair, the make-up that had begun to run in tear tracks down her cheeks, the expensive dress, the delicate string of pearls that he knew she saved for special occasions. And in that moment she had never, ever looked more beautiful to him.

'Neela,' his felt his voice catch in his throat, 'what are you doing here? I thought you were having dinner with…' He couldn't bring himself to say Gallant's name.

'I was,' she replied quietly. 'And when I was sitting there, and all I could think of was…' Her voice dropped to a whisper, and he stepped towards her, partly to hear her better and partly because this was it, this was the moment he had been waiting for.

She seemed unable to speak so he gently put a hand under her chin and raised her head so their eyes met. 'Was what, Neela?'

'You.' She started to cry again, except these were tears of joy, streaming down her face uncontrollably. 'You, Ray. Always you.'

He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. Looking deeply into her eyes, two great pools of emotion that he felt like he could fall into forever, he could see everything that she had been too scared to say to him. She hadn't made a choice because when it came down to it, there was no choice to make.

He gathered her in his arms, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her in a circle before setting her back down and claiming her lips in a possessive kiss. Right there, in front of everyone. He didn't care, and neither did she. They were oblivious to the stunned eyes on them, in that moment nothing existed beyond each other. He kissed her just how she loved him to kiss her, teasing the roof of her mouth with his tongue in a way that was completely unsuitable for a public place and smiling with pure happiness against her lips, and she felt her knees weaken and she threaded her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

Finally, she broke away just enough to speak. 'I'm so sorry for everything I've done Ray. After what I've put you through I won't blame you if you never forgive me, but I love you. I love you so much that I can't live without you. So please, tell me, is there any chance that we could make this work?'

Just when he thought he couldn't be any more in love with her, his heart swelled a little more. 'I love you too Neela, you know that. And I want nothing more in the world than to be with you.'

He looked down at her, and in that moment she knew that she was doing the right thing; it should be this she worked not to throw away, not her marriage. Her marriage was a piece of paper and a band of gold. This was real. What was in his eyes, that was as real as it got.

'Oh Ray.'

He smiled at her, and kissed her again.

Finally, they became aware of the audience. They glanced at each other, and slowly looked around. There was actually a circle of people around them; Neela didn't think that happened in real life.

'Uh oh,' he whispered in her ear.

Please, someone say something, she thought. Please don't just stare. For once, she was grateful for Morris's gossipy nature; at least he broke the silence.

'Woah. Wh-what are you two doing? She's married,' he pointed at Neela vaguely, 'I don't think that's allowed.'

'No, it's not.' Pratt looked hostile, and there was a coldness to his voice.

They looked around at the other faces surrounding them. Chuny and Sam looked surprised, but both offered them wide, encouraging grins. Frank was nudging Jerry, who handed him what looked like a ten dollar bill. Weaver was pretending to look annoyed at the disruption, but she couldn't help but give them the flicker of an indulgent smile.

'Greg, I…' Neela began.

'We…' Ray tried to help her out, but he couldn't think of anything much that would be of any assistance, and he was still slightly choked.

Slowly, and with an obvious reluctance, Neela unwound her arms from Ray's neck, but she took his hand and grasped it firmly; no amount of censure would make her let go. She looked around, addressing their entire audience.

'I'm sorry everyone, we didn't mean for this to be quite so public. As you can see, Ray and I are… well, like I say, you can see what we are. I know some of you probably don't think very highly of us at the moment, and that's fair enough, we understand that. But we,' she paused in her speech, and looked up at Ray, her eyes speaking a thousand words, 'love each other. Very much.' She shrugged. 'So…'

Ray cut in. 'We intend to be together, but we don't want any awkwardness here at work, so if you have anything to say, say it now.'

Pratt opened his mouth to speak, as they expected he would, but he was interrupted by a new voice. Michael, his face twisted in anguish, stood in the doorway.

'Actually, _I _have a few things to say.'

Turning to face her husband, Neela squeezed Ray's hand a little harder.


	20. Endings

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: The good news is… this is not the last chapter. The bad news is… the next one definitely is! And you may have to wait a little while for the last one because my finals are coming up. A few additional reviews may help it on the way though! Honestly, I have loved writing this story so much and I am as reluctant for it to end as you all tell me you are, hence my decision to squeeze an extra chapter out of it. Anyway, here is the penultimate offering; I hope you enjoy it.

'Michael…'

He was holding their coats, and he stepped forward to place hers on the admit desk. He looked as though he might have been crying, but there was rain on his shoulders so it could have been that, she couldn't tell.

'No Neela, don't "Michael" me. Don't you _dare_. I had no desire to do this in such a public place but it seems,' his face twisted into a sneer, 'that you have developed a sudden fondness for public spectacles, so have it your way.'

'Please, I'm sorry. Let's just go into –'

'_No. _Here, Neela.' His voice was dangerous. 'If it's a good enough place to kiss that rock star wannabe, it's a good enough place for you to tell me why you want out of this marriage. What is it, Neela? Have I been that terrible a husband? Is the prospect of spending the rest of your life with me that heinous to you?'

She shook her head sadly, resigning herself that this whole sordid scene was to be played out in front of everyone. Still holding Ray's hand firmly, not caring that maybe it wasn't the wisest of things to be doing right now, she sighed. 'No Michael, it's not heinous. If I thought I'd actually be spending my future _with_ you, it would be quite appealing, but we both know that even when this horrific, unjust war is over, there'll be another one, somewhere else. And you'll go to it. I don't blame you for that; I understand that it is important to you, but I won't be a part of it. I want someone who loves me as much as I love them, someone who loves me more than some unattainable ideal of glory, or heroism or duty or whatever the Hell it is you're searching for.'

'Someone who loves you like he says he does?' Michael jerked his head towards Ray, not even gracing him with a look.

'Don't bring Ray into this Michael. Do you think I would have fallen in love with Ray if there wasn't something fundamentally wrong between you and me?'

'Don't bring Ray into this?' Michael asked incredulously. 'I think _you_ brought him into this by declaring your undying love for him. Now, answer my question.'

'Yes, okay Michael? Yes. I want to be with someone who loves me like Ray does. I want to be with Ray.'

'Some guy who thinks he's cool because he plays the guitar tells you he loves you and you believe him? God, I thought you were sensible Neela.'

Something in Neela finally snapped. Knowing she was entirely in the wrong, she had kept her temper, tried to explain things to him fairly – he deserved that much at least – but it was that word, "sensible", that triggered something deep inside her.

'Yes, you thought I was sensible. Is that why you married me Michael? Because I'm sensible, safe, serious? Well, maybe I'm not those things. Maybe I want to be wild and reckless and do things because I want to do them and not because society or convention or my parents or you think I should. Maybe I want to be in love with a guy who plays the guitar. Ray _feels_ things, Michael. I don't want to think anymore, I want to _feel._'

Michael's face was an indescribable picture of emotions, hurt, sorrow, anger, and with every word she said, those emotions intensified further. 'Look at me Neela,' he pointed at himself. '_Look at me_. How can you say I have no feelings? I have them all right, and right now, you're ripping them to shreds. Can't you see what you're doing to me?'

'Yes, I'm sorry. I can, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I never meant for any of this to happen –'

At that, he turned to Ray. Neela could tell he was getting more and more upset, and less rational with every sentence he said, but there was nothing she could do to deflect his attention. 'So, well, if it wasn't her fault, then it must have been yours. What was it; didn't you get a big enough kick out of screwing groupies anymore? Were they a bit too easy? Thought you'd go after someone else's wife for more of a challenge?'

'Look, I'm sorry –'

'Stop saying you're sorry. If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have done it.'

'Okay. Fine. I love Neela. She's not about a challenge, or a bit of variety or anything like that. I've been in love with her for a long time, and I don't care if you don't want to hear it, but I _am_ sorry. It doesn't change things though. I want to be with her.'

Briefly, Ray turned to look down at her, letting her know that his words were meant for her reassurance as much as an explanation to her husband. In return, she grasped his hand a little tighter and gave him as much of a smile as she dared.

As Ray took his eyes off him, Michael saw his opportunity and landed a firm punch high on Ray's cheekbone, snapping his head sideways and causing him to stagger heavily. Had it not been for his firm hold of Neela, he would probably have fallen.

The sudden burst of violence seemed to galvanise everyone into action. Weaver started shouting and Pratt and Morris jumped forward, grabbing Michael by the arms and pulling him backward.

'Let go of me,' he said angrily, trying to break loose.

'No man, come on, outside and calm down.' Pratt started to drag him towards the doors.

'You're joking? He's screwing my wife and you're telling me to calm down! I thought you were my friend, Pratt. Where were you when all this was going on anyway? What happened to looking out for her?'

'Hey,' Morris interjected. 'He can only do so much man. You left, she moved on. Sorry, but it seems pretty clear to me. If her and Ray are happy, then good luck to them.'

'Morris, you're not helping,' Pratt snapped, but as they stared each other out for a moment, Morris knew he saw a reluctant acknowledgement of truth in the other man's eyes. 'Come on Mike, come with me.' Pratt dropped his voice, and Michael knew he had lost his last ally. He let himself be led outside quietly.

Neela was too wrapped up in Ray to watch him go. She was already examining his cheek. 'Are you all right?' She reached up, turning his face so the bright, artificial light illuminated it more clearly. 'Let me see.'

'Stop fussing, I'm fine,' he said, even though his face was throbbing with pain.

'You're not fine, you're bleeding and he might have cracked a bone. He hit you really hard Ray. I'm so sorry.'

She was touching his face gingerly, but at her apology he reached up and took hold of her wrist. 'Neela, I don't care how many punches I have to take in order to be with you. They're all worth it.' He smiled at her, ignoring the painful protests his facial muscles made at the effort. She rewarded him with a kiss.

Weaver allowed them a moment before breaking it up with a not so discreet cough. They looked at her shamefaced. 'Doctor Barnett, I think you had better come and get that looked at, Neela's right, you'll need an x-ray. Everyone else, find some work to do and find it quickly. Chuny, come and help me with Ray.'

Everyone began to shuffle off, sensing the show was over, and wanting to find somewhere out of earshot where they could digest the news and have a good gossip.

'And you two; don't think I'm not furious with you, because I am. But contrary to popular belief, under my icy cold exterior of stone, I do have a heart, hence why I'm not firing you on the spot. Think yourselves very lucky indeed, but I'm warning you now, any repetition of tonight in any way, and you will be clearing out your lockers. Understood?'

They nodded, knowing that as she had said, they had been lucky. Personal lives should be kept at home in any job, but in a hospital, it was imperative that all your time and energies were concentrated on the patient. They knew they were getting off extremely lightly.

Soon Ray was settled in an exam room and Weaver was taking great pleasure in prodding and poking his face, expressionless as he winced and groaned in pain. 'Do you have to be quite that rough?' he mumbled petulantly, more to himself than her.

'Don't be such a baby. I can give you a shot of local if you'd rather?' she offered slyly; everyone knew of his phobia of needles.

'No,' he replied quickly. 'Its fine, just hurry up okay?'

She stepped back and peeled off her gloves. 'You're safe, I'm through with you. There's already a fair bit of swelling so I'm not sure if you've broken anything. I'm going to send you up for an x-ray to make sure but even if there is some damage, it's only going to be a hairline fracture to the cheekbone at worst, and there's not a lot we can do to treat that anyway. Chuny, can you tidy him up while he waits for a slot upstairs?' There was a bit of a graze from Michael's knuckles that was bleeding slightly.

'Yes, of course.'

When Weaver had left, Neela, who had been sitting quietly throughout the examination, turned to Ray. 'If you don't mind, while you're waiting for your x-ray, I think I might go and find Michael.'

She looked at him nervously, unsure of how he would react. Immediately, his eyes filled with worry. 'Why?'

'Because I have to Ray, you know I do. He'll have calmed down now, it will be all right.'

He nodded, then as she got up to go he grabbed her wrist. 'If you need me Neela, come and get me. You don't have to do this on your own if you don't want to.' Chuny smiled silently at them. Their concern and love for each other was touching. She'd seen the sadness in Ray's eyes on Neela's wedding day, and somehow she wasn't entirely surprised things had turned out this way. They certainly seemed happy now.

'I'll be fine Ray, but yes, if I need you, I'll come and find you.' She grinned cheekily at him. 'Now behave yourself for Chuny.'

Neela found Michael sitting on the pavement in the rain. Soaked to the skin, he was hunched over and looked a thoroughly dejected figure. Pratt was beside him. She approached them tentatively.

'Michael?'

'You've said your piece Neela,' Pratt answered for him. 'I think it would be better if you just went back inside.'

Gallant put a hand on his friend's arm. 'No, it's okay man. She and I need to talk, you get back to work.' Pratt nodded and rose to his feet, handing him a key.

'All right. I'll see you back at my place later.'

They watched together in silence as Pratt returned to the hospital, then Neela sat down on the cold, wet pavement next to his man that a piece of paper said was her husband, but who, in reality, she hardly knew.

'Do you believe me when I say that I honestly and truly never meant to hurt you?'

'Yes, I do. I know you'd never wilfully hurt anyone Neela.' He sounded quiet, defeated, and she knew all his temper of earlier was gone. There was a pause. 'How did it happen?' he asked. 'I don't want any details,' he added hastily, 'but I need to know how, when. I think I understand why.'

She didn't really want to tell him, thinking it would only add to his torture, but if he said he needed to know, then she wasn't going to deny him what it was within her power to grant. She began slowly, not looking at Michael, instead choosing to stare at some point in the middle distance. 'I had a presentation for Dubenko, and I was so stressed about it. Afterwards, Dubenko and I were drinking together, and I suddenly realised that I didn't want to be relaxing in a bar, enjoying a few drinks. I wanted to be with Ray. So I went home and told him I had to move out. All I could think of was you, my marriage. It meant a lot to me to keep it intact. Then came the night that I was going to leave; I had it all lined up, I was going to sub-let Abby's place, but when it came to it, I just couldn't leave him. I couldn't make myself go. That's when it happened. I'm sorry.'

'It's all right. Well, it's not, but you know what I mean. What about when you married me? When you married me, did you wish it was him?'

It was difficult, and not what he wanted to hear, but he deserved an honest answer from her. 'Subconsciously, I think so. I loved you Michael, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't burning, all consuming, at least not for me. With Ray, it's different; I feel like who I always wanted to be but never knew how to be.'

'Would it have been different if I hadn't gone back to Iraq?'

'Perhaps. Perhaps it would have made it last longer, but I don't think it would have been enough to make it last forever. You believe in what you're doing out there, and I know how important it is to you that you do it. I wouldn't want you to not do it because of me.'

'I love you Neela, I love you so much. I wish there was something I could say or do to change your mind, but there isn't is there?' Finally, she met his gaze, looking into eyes that were full of wistful sadness.

She shook her head. 'No, there isn't. I'm so sorry things have ended this way. I'm sorry I told you in a crowded restaurant, I'm sorry you had to see me kissing him, I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to stay faithful to you in your absence. I'm sorry that I don't love you the way you love me. You deserve someone far more worthy of you than me, Michael.'

'But I wanted you, I picked you.'

Slowly, she slid off her wedding ring. Now she wasn't in a panic, it came off easily, too easily. She held it out to him, and reluctantly, he took it.

'So this is it?' he asked.

She stood up. 'This is it. Take care of yourself Michael.'

Here, at the end, they were what maybe they should always have been, friends. They seemed to do better at that than husband and wife. 'You too Neela,' he said sadly, and sat, rain mingling with tears on his cheeks, watching her walk away from him, back inside, back to Ray.


	21. Beginnings

Disclaimer: As before

Author's Note: Sorry if I go on a bit here folks. I'll tell you now, this chapter is pure, gratuitous fluff for everyone who believes in happy endings (and to warn you, the M rating crops up again). It is also enormously long but it didn't split into even halves very well, so I've left it whole. I can't tell you how much fun I have had writing this story and how much it means to me. I know it's not the first story I've completed on here, but it's so much longer than the last, and it's been a lot more challenging to write, so I feel a lot more of myself has gone into it. And your response to it has been absolutely amazing – I'd like to thank all of you who have read it, and especially those of you who have taken the time to review it. Oh, and thank you also for all the good luck wishes for my exams – I think I'll need all the luck I can get! I'm so sorry to see this finish, but this time it really is the last chapter. I only hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. And come on, one last time (on this story anyway), reviews please!

When Neela returned inside, Ray had finished in x-ray and was waiting at the admit desk for her. There was a huge smile on his face, although the shadow of concern passed across it as he saw her come in, wet and sad.

'Are you all right?' He took her hands in his, realising that he could no longer feel the cold metal of a wedding ring on her finger.

She nodded, and said quietly, 'Yes, it's over. He's gone.'

He pulled her into his arms, knowing how upset she must be. He felt her shiver with the cold; she was wet through. 'Neela, my love, you're soaking, do you want me to go and find you some scrubs to put on or something?'

She smiled up at him gratefully. 'No, it's okay. I feel warm on the inside.' And she did; being in his arms made her feel like her heart was burning in her chest. As their eyes met, each saw the desire and love in the other's, but Weaver had them well scared into behaving themselves at work, so they had to content themselves with a tighter hug and an unspoken promise of later. Unless they could find an empty supply cupboard again, Ray thought with a smile. God, they'd come so far since then.

'What are you smiling at?' she asked coyly, knowing exactly what was on his mind.

'You,' he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling the side of her neck. He was close enough to her to feel her heart begin to race and her own breathing quicken. 'Time to go home?' he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

She was about to agree, already aching to feel his touch, when Neela suddenly remembered something. 'No, we can't go anywhere yet. Abby's upstairs in maternity, I want to know how she's getting on. I said I'd go and see her when the baby was born.'

Jerry, who had obviously been listening in on their conversation, spoke up. 'Frank's on the phone to Kovac now; look.' He indicated over at Frank, who had a rare smile on his face. 'Looks like good news.'

They listened to him carefully. 'It's been like a soap opera down here,' he grumbled. 'Yes, yes, she's here. I'll send her up. Congratulations Doctor Kovac, give Abby my best.'

He hung up, and turned to Neela. 'Go on up. They're in room three of the main maternity ward.'

'Thanks Frank.' She made her way towards the lift, and when Ray didn't immediately follow, she went back and grabbed his hand, dragging him after her.

'Me as well?' he asked, sounding unsure.

'Of course you as well.' She gave him a reassuring look. 'It's okay now Ray, we're allowed.' The smile returned to his face at that.

'I'm still meant to be on shift.' Weaver hadn't agreed to give him her shift earlier, probably not trusting Morris, Pratt and himself to be left alone on the floor, but she had let him carry on working. Luckily, she was hovering around at that moment.

'Go on. Go. We're staffed well enough as it is.'

'Thank you Doctor Weaver.'

When they got upstairs, Neela knocked on the door tentatively, waiting for Luka's quiet, 'Come in,' before opening the door. She dragged Ray in after her, sensing his nerves.

Immediately, she rushed over to the bed, where Abby was holding a sleeping baby wrapped in a soft blue blanket in her arms. 'Oh Abby, he's _beautiful_. I can't believe you have a baby.'

Abby gave her a tired smile. 'I know, neither can I. Do you want to hold him?'

Neela nodded eagerly, and Abby passed her the tiny child carefully so as to not wake him. 'We've called him Joseph.'

'Hello Joe,' Neela said quietly to the baby in her arms.

While the women were primarily concerned with the child, Luka drew Ray over to the window. 'Frank said it was like a soap opera downstairs, by the look of you now, you were playing a leading role.'

'Hmm,' Ray agreed dryly. 'Things got a bit… public.'

'So who did that then? Pratt or Gallant?'

'Gallant. And I don't mind, she's worth it.' The two men looked at each other, and seeing the contentment and happiness written all over Ray's swollen features, Luka's face cracked into a smile.

'I'm happy for you, for both of you. But you make sure you look after her; she's given up her marriage for you, don't make her regret it,' he said warningly.

'Never, man. Never.' Luka clapped him on the shoulder at his reply.

Abby was looking at Neela, keen for information. 'So?'

'Abby, you've just had a baby; you cannot honestly be interested in my love life right now. Look at this little guy, how can you think of anything else?' Neela didn't take her eyes off the baby, and Abby smiled at her.

'I've got the next eighteen years to enjoy him. Come on, your ring is gone and Ray looks like someone used him in an anger management demo. Does this mean…?'

Neela stole a quick glance at her friend, letting some of the happiness she was feeling show in her eyes. Abby knew what she meant by that and let out a little squeal of excitement. 'Really?'

'Really.'

'And Michael?'

'It was hard, and horrible, and I hated doing it, and I hate myself for doing it, but I feel… I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The lies and the pretending are over now. I can just… I can just be with Ray, and enjoy it.'

The baby began to cry, and Neela started to gently rock him in her arms, and he soon quietened down. 'You really have a way with him. You've just earned yourself the position of chief babysitter, you know.'

'I have an abundance of younger brothers and sisters and cousins; I'm better with babies than people always seem to think I am going to be.'

'Neela,' Abby said, going back to the original subject, 'I'm so happy for you and Ray. I've been able to see for a long time how you two feel about each other; I'm so glad you're doing this properly now.'

'I know it didn't sit well with you, what we were doing, but I'm so grateful for your support, and I know you've been there for Ray too. We both owe you a lot.' Her voice was serious.

Abby felt it was time to lighten the mood. 'That's a yes to the baby sitting service then?'

'Absolutely,' Neela replied emphatically.

Abby looked briefly over at Luka where he was standing with Ray, and nodded at him slightly. He stepped back towards the bed, and Ray moved back to Neela's side, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, looking over her shoulder at the baby. 'He's a cutie Abby. Just as well he doesn't take after his Mum, hey?'

'Watch it,' she warned.

'Look, guys, now you're both here, together, there's something Abby and I want to ask you. I know things have been tough for you so we'll understand if you don't want to say yes to this, but we were wondering if you would like to be Joe's godparents?' As Luka looked at the young couple, the perfect picture of happiness with a baby in their arms, he knew that Abby had been right with the suggestion. He couldn't think, if God forbid anything should happen to him and Abby, of two people he would like to bring up his child more.

Ray and Neela stared at him for a minute, then looked at each other, stunned, before turning back to Luka. 'Us?' Neela asked incredulously.

'Me?' Ray couldn't believe what he was hearing. Doctor Kovac, ER Chief, wanted _him _to be godfather to his child? He looked at Abby, who smiled at him encouragingly, and he could see in their eyes that they meant it. 'You know I'd turn him into a rock star if I got my hands on him, don't you?'

'We're sort of hoping it won't come to that,' Abby laughed.

Ray looked back to Neela. She looked even more beautiful with a baby in her arms, and it gave him ideas that he never thought he'd have. Not for another ten or twenty years, anyway.

'We'd be honoured to be godparents to Joe.' He spoke for them both, earning a kiss on his uninjured cheek from Neela.

They stayed and chatted after that for a short while, then Joe began to wake up and grizzle, so they made their excuses and left the new parents to it. As soon as the door was shut behind them, he reached for her, grabbing her hips and holding her close to him. 'Now can we go home?'

'Yes, now we can.'

The car journey home seemed interminable to both of them. He drove, but kept his hand on the gearstick, where she rested hers over his, caressing his skin with her thumb. Every time he felt he could spare a second to take his eyes off the road, he looked across at her.

'Keep your eyes on the road, Ray,' she chastised.

'But you're so much more beautiful.'

'Seriously, Ray. We're three minutes from home. Even you can wait that long.'

'They're going to be the longest three minutes of my life.' She saw the flash of desire in his eyes and all of a sudden, three minutes seemed like an eternity to her. The ache in her body was so bad it was almost a physical pain.

'Drive faster,' she said, letting him know that she felt the same.

When they got to the door, she looked to him to unlock it, but he shook his head. 'Sorry, I don't have my keys.'

'What, why, where are they?'

'I… I gave them to Pratt to give to Gallant. His things were still here and he wanted to collect them before we got home.' He hated having to mention Michael. He knew that at some point, they probably had more talking to do, and Michael was a subject that would definitely come up, but he wanted tonight to be about them.

'Oh.' Wordlessly, she took her keys out of her bag and unlocked the door.

He was worried that mention of her husband, ex-husband, had upset her, but as soon as the door was closed, she insinuated herself into his arms. She was shivering with cold from her wet dress, even though she was now wearing both her own coat and his over the top.

'I think we need to get you out of those wet clothes,' he said, putting his hands on her waist under the coats. 'Purely for health reasons, of course.'

She laughed at him. 'Don't be such a cliché Ray.'

'I'll be as much of a cliché as I want Neela. I love you. I don't think you understand just how much you mean to me.' He took her hand, and held in on his chest, over his heart. It was beating frantically. 'There, that's how much I love you.'

She looked up into his eyes, meeting his gaze steadily. 'I love you too Ray.' She raised herself up onto her tiptoes to kiss him, and he lowered his head to meet her. 'Let me show you how much I love you,' she said quietly.

Their kiss was slow and sensual, and as Ray felt her open up beneath him, he moaned in need, hardly able to breathe with desire. He slid his hands from where they were resting on her waist up her ribcage, over her breasts and to her shoulders. He pushed the coats down her arms, revealing dark, goose pimpled skin. He touched each shoulder reverently with his lips, feeling her shudder.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he took the hint, picking her up. 'Your place or mine?' he asked with a grin.

'Yours,' she replied without hesitation, ignoring his corniness. It was his bed that they had first made love in, even though they hadn't quite realised, or at least been willing to admit, that it was love, and it was his bed she wanted to be in now, and forever.

He carried her into the room and set her gently down. 'Not my room anymore Neela, ours.'

She felt a tingle run down her spine at his intensity. His voice was husky with desire and love. She reached up to kiss him again, and he kissed her back, tipping her head back by tangling his hands in her hair and watching her as she closed her eyes in sheer bliss. He felt one of her hands, freezing cold, start to pull his top up his chest. As his skin was revealed, he felt the cold, wet material of her dress against him, and sucked his stomach in involuntarily, but pushing his body towards hers at the same time, eager to be closer to her. He broke away from their kiss just long enough to raise his arms and allow her to pull his clothes over his head. She tossed it carelessly into a corner.

It was his turn next. As he brought his arms back down, one hand found the zipper at the back of her dress and very slowly pulled it down tooth by tooth. As he did so, she felt his hot breath on her neck, and it was all she could do to keep control of herself. Finally, when the dress was undone, it was sticking to her skin so he peeled it down and away from her. It fell heavily to the floor, and she stepped out of it, leaving it where it lay.

He stepped away from her for a moment, carefully turning her, at arms length, all the way around, drinking in the sight of her. She was so breathtakingly beautiful it nearly brought tears to his eyes. She was still wearing her pearls, creamy white and in fabulous contrast to her dark skin and the only other things she was now wearing as she stood before him, some insignificant scraps of black lace and a pair of black shoes with vertiginous heels that made her legs look like they carried on forever.

They were standing so Ray had his back to the bed, and Neela slowly started to step forwards, pushing him back towards it. When his legs hit the frame of the bed, and he couldn't move back any further, Neela's hands went to the buckle of his belt. Smiling at her masterfulness, he allowed her to undo his trousers and pull them down. He kicked them off along with his shoes. Now they were almost entirely skin on skin, Ray pulled her to him, needed to feel her body alongside his. He didn't feel complete unless he could feel her as a part of himself.

Their lips met in another fiery kiss, tongues entangled. 'Neela…' he managed to groan, her mouth muffling his words.

'Sh, Ray,' she whispered, breaking away from him to rest a finger gently on his lips. She suddenly took on a deeply erotic air of control, which utterly mesmerised him. She pulled his boxers down and pushed him back onto the bed. He tried to take him with her as he fell, but she stepped smartly out of his grasp with a seductive smile.

Seeing him lying there, Neela took a moment to appreciate the sight before her, moonlight angling in from the window onto his pale body. Even with a swollen and bruised cheek, he was handsome, and she loved the way he never took those amazing eyes of his off her for as much as a second. And she had to admit it; the tattoos did it for her. She didn't know when she, Neela Rasgotra, had turned into the sort of girl that fell for inked, guitar playing charmers, but she had a feeling that it was some time around two years ago when a new intern had poked his head around the door while she was trying to talk to Abby. And besides, Ray was so much more than that. Since she had lived with him, she had got to know the real him. The him who watched Ghost and pretended not to, and taped her favourite tv shows, and had grown into a kind, caring, talented doctor and man. She felt honoured to know him, let alone to love him.

Realising he was lying there waiting for her, she met his adoring gaze and reached behind her back, undoing the clasp of her bra. She heard him groan as she slipped it off her shoulders and she smiled playfully, throwing it at him. He moved quickly to catch it. 'Come here Neela,' he growled. He started to get off the bed to grab her.

'No, she said, stepping back again, enjoying torturing him. 'Watch. Don't be so impatient.'

'Neela, I swear…' He felt like he was going to die if he couldn't touch her, taste her, soon. He considered standing up and pulling him to the bed, but his whole body was weak with desire and he wasn't sure he was even capable of getting to his feet. Then that final piece of lace was gone, taking his breath away with it. And finally, at long last, she moved towards the bed.

Immediately, she was on her back and he was towering over her. He kissed her as if he needed to in order to survive. In fact, it was true, he thought, he did need her to survive. He slipped his lips past hers, moving to her neck, tongue playing with the sensitive spot below her ear, then reaching up to nip her earlobe. Now it was her who was moaning. He continued to kiss her, moving to her collarbone, playing with the skin with his teeth, biting her gently, this time secure in the knowledge that he could leave any mark he wanted; only he would see it.

'Ray,' she managed to get out. 'Ray, please…' She wanted him to both end the torture and make it carry on forever.

He gave her a sly smile. 'Oh no, Neela, this is payback.' He slid down her body, trailing kisses down her throat, over her breast. He briefly flicked one hard nipple with his tongue as he travelled down, but didn't pause, eliciting another desperate groan. She cried his name again, but was rewarded only by feeling his lips curve into a satisfied smile against her stomach.

And then he reached the triangle of dark hair and she thought… no, she couldn't think. Her hands, gently resting in his hair tightened into fists, and she pulled him closer towards her. Nothing in the world existed for her except him, the actions of his tongue, the way he was stroking her thigh with one hand, letting his fingers run over her silky skin.

'Ray, oh God, Ray, I love you,' she panted, her breath coming in short gasps, making her words ragged. She exploded beneath him, riding waves of indescribable pleasure. He moved back up her body, and held her until she stopped trembling.

He kissed her forehead gently. 'I love you too, Neela.'

Their lips met again, and as she tasted herself on his mouth, she wanted him all over again. She felt him hard against her and kissed him deeply, her hands running across his back, nails scraping gently, driving him crazy.

He groaned. 'I need you, now.'

He raised himself up on his forearms, looking down at her. His hazel eyes had gone black with desire, and the intensity of emotion on his face overwhelmed her. In answer, she wrapped her legs around him, and pulled him back down to her.

He slid into her, their souls as well as their bodies becoming deeply entwined. He tried to make himself last as long as he could, but with her, there was no self-control. The sound of her screaming his name spurred him on as they moved together. Then she arched her back towards him, and he couldn't sustain himself any longer; they came together in cries and moans of ecstasy. The feel of her moving beneath him left him stunned, and knowing that this was forever sparked emotions that he couldn't begin to describe.

For Neela, it was simpler than that. At last, in his arms, she felt she had found the place she belonged; she was happy in a way she had never been before; never even known had existed.

Much later, they were lying amongst tangled bedcovers, sated, enjoying the feeling of just being together. He was stretched out on his back, and she lay curled on his chest. He was playing with her hair absently and she traced the lines of his tattoo on his arm.

'Didn't Luka and Abby look so happy?' she said. 'As if their lives were complete.'

'I know how they feel,' he smiled down at her.

'And Joe was just adorable.'

Ever since he'd seen Neela holding the baby, Ray had had a thought in his mind that simply wouldn't go away. He wasn't sure if he dared to voice it, but there were no secrets between them now. 'I want one,' he said suddenly.

Neela wasn't sure if she'd just heard him right. She could have sworn he said… She sat up abruptly. 'Did you just say what I think you said?' She was looking at him like he was crazy.

He didn't reply, but looked at her steadily, and his eyes told her he was perfectly serious.

'Ray, babies are fantastic – when you can give them back.' She didn't even think as she opposed him, she was in too much shock to even consider the matter.

'If it was ours, we wouldn't want to give it back.'

'You can't be serious. So much has happened. We're only twenty eight. We're not married.' She cast around for reasons against it.

'That can easily be rectified,' he countered in a flash.

Wh-what? Now she was sure she was dreaming.

'Ray, I'm still married. Not for much longer, I know, but…'

He sighed, disappointed that she hadn't taken him seriously. She was probably right, it was far too soon, they were far too young. 'Don't worry about it,' he said dismissively. 'It was only an idea.'

They were silent for a little while, and although he gladly welcomed her back into his arms as she resumed her previous position on his chest, she could tell he was upset. She hadn't meant to hurt him, or reject the idea out of hand. She had simply been too surprised to take him seriously.

Now the initial shock was wearing off, she began to think about it. She thought of the little packet of pills in the bathroom cabinet that she took so religiously. It would be so easy to just stop taking them. That wouldn't be making a choice really, it would be just letting nature take its course. Just like nature had taken its course with their relationship. Perhaps some things were inevitable.

'Were you serious?' she asked, knowing his answer before he said it.

Sleep had been on the verge of claiming him, but at her words, he was wide awake instantly. 'You know I was.'

'If I was to stop taking my pill…' she began, not quite believing they were even having this conversation.

'Then we'd be leaving it to chance?' he said hopefully.

The look of happiness and hope on his face took her breath away. 'You do know that something like ninety per cent of sexually active women who don't use contraception end up pregnant within twelve months, don't you?' He frowned at her, not sure what she was getting at. 'I'm just saying, the odds are pretty heavily weighted, so you had better be sure.'

Ray couldn't believe she was agreeing with him. His idea scared him, but in such a good way. All he wanted, all he had ever and could ever want, was her, and seeing Luka and Abby, seeing Neela with the baby, he knew exactly what he wanted his life to be.

He looked down at her with love, and saw it reciprocated wholeheartedly. 'I'm sure,' he replied emphatically, aware that tears were actually in his eyes. He was almost scared to let her see the level of his emotion, but he could see that she too was crying. He lowered his face to hers and kissed away her tears.

They stayed still for a moment, letting the enormity of their decision sink in, until Ray decided that if he didn't say something soon, he might never be able to speak again over the lump in his throat.

'And you do know that quoting medical statistics in bed is a real turn-off for a guy, don't you?' he said, trying to sound light but not being able to keep a raw, hoarse note from his voice.

She rolled onto her stomach, on top of him, and eyed him archly. 'I'm sure I can think of something to take your mind off it,' she grinned at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that he was quick to return.


End file.
